The Hunter's Games
by scooby31415
Summary: Dean Winchester is just trying to keep his family alive in District Four. But what happens when his name is picked to be become the latest tribute in the Hunger Games? Follow Dean's trials as he competes to survive in the 65th Hunger Games.
1. The Reaping

**A/N- Hiya :) Thanks for clicking onto my story! I'm hoping to upload a new chapter at least once a week. Like always, feel free to let me know if I've made a mistake in spelling, grammar or if a sentence dines't make sense. Please leave a review, so I know whether you enjoyed the chapter :) Anyway, that's my author's note done, so on with the story...**

 **Disclaimer- I don't own Supernatural or The Hunger Games, just a fan :)**

Dean opened his eyes slowly, not wanting this day to be here already. Today was the day of the reaping. He glanced over to Sam, who was curled up in the adjacent bed, and sighed. It was only two years until Sam would have his name placed into the bowl, something which Dean really wasn't looking forward to.

Dean reluctantly rolled out of bed and walked over to the dining table, being greeted to the sight of their father was face down asleep on the table, gripping a nearly empty bottle of some sort of drink. Dean picked up the few bottles that lay empty on the floor, his father must have gone through a lot that night, something Dean wasn't surprised about. There were two days that John always drunk himself to oblivion; the night before the reaping and the day of their Mom's death.

"Dean?" A quiet voice came from behind, making Dean jump. Dean turned around and saw his little brother, Sam, stood behind him. Dean suppressed a grin as Sam shoved his mop of brown hair out his eyes. He had told him it would just get in his face if he didn't cut it.

"What?" Dean asked, moving over to cupboard to get some breakfast for them.

"What happens if you get picked?" Sam asked him.

Dean rolled his eyes. "You ask me this every year. I won't get picked" Dean reassured Sam, but tried to reassure himself too. Perhaps if he said it enough times, he won't be picked.

"Your name is in there more than most peoples" Sam reminded him. Living in District Four, there was little poverty. Being one of the richest districts meant that the majority of the children did not collect the tesserae. But the Winchesters were among the poorest in District Four. Their mom died in a house fire when Dean was four and Sam was only six months old. After her death, their dad had stopped working, overcome with grief. John would go to work for a while, but he was unreliable and didn't turn up, so he kept losing his job. Dean didn't blame him though and it wasn't like he never tried. But this meant Dean had to put food on the table when he was just six years old, taking almost full responsibility of Sam.

All the children learnt about the fishing trade almost as soon as they were able to walk. In schools, they were taught different techniques on how catch fish, and other sea food, and anything else to do with the fishing industry. But children weren't allowed to work until they were twelve, and only part time after school, so Dean had to find other ways to get food onto the table. He illegally worked on a boat as a deckhand, for a partially descent wage. But he would also poach the fish that were near the beach, or any animals that tried to feed on the fish, using his trident to spear them. But occasionally, when things got truly desperate, he took the 'five fingered discount'.

He only ever took what he really needed, such as medicine when Sam was really sick or a loaf of bread that was about to be thrown away for no reason other than it was slightly burnt. Dean was clever, sneaky, so it was rare that he was ever caught by the shop owner.

Both poaching and stealing were punishable by death, but he was lucky. He was both a child and he had a decent Peacekeeper in District Four, Deacon. Deacon had taken a shining to Dean, feeling slightly sorry about his situation. He had managed to prevent any thought of executions, and managed to stop half the floggings. However, Dean's criminal ways didn't go down as well with the rest of the population of District Four. There were only a handful of people who truly liked him, and the majority of those were the girls he flirted with at school.

Sam, of course, had no such involvement in Dean's escapades. Dean had made sure that Sam would never get into trouble and there was no doubt that he would protect his brother with his life. That was why Dean's name was in that bowl twelve times. Three because he had to, and the other nine for the tesserae that was needed to keep his brother and father alive. That was more than most of the eighteen year olds in the district, let alone the fourteen year olds.

"Even if I did get picked, someone's gonna to volunteer" Dean reassured Sam. Sam nodded his head but was not totally convinced. District Four was considered a Career District in the games, like District One and Two. Dean and Sam had been trained by their father, like most of the children. The authorities told them it was an honour to become a tribute, to win the games. After all, the games did help to keep the district strong, with a year's worth of gifts they received if a tribute survived. Also, the opportunity to never have another gruelling day of labour out at sea, where you didn't always know if you would come back home, was appealing.

But the Winchester's didn't buy into the Capitol fed ideals, along with many others in the district. They trained purely for survival. To Dean it made sense, they wouldn't send a Peacekeeper into battle without training, so why should they send children into a fighting arena without training? Despite many of the children's training being for survival, they still had at least one or two people volunteering every year. Eighteen-year-olds who had been brainwashed by their parents and the school, with a slight psychopathic killer look in their eyes, wanting to battle for glory. Or an eighteen-year-old would volunteer from a poor family, for the wealth that a victor received. Either way, each year District Four had a volunteer tribute.

"Eat some breakfast, we'll have to go soon" Dean told Sam, giving him a playful shove. Sam ignored his brother, grabbing some tesserae bread from the cupboard "After the reaping, I'll get some decent bread" Dean promised.

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Dean. We can't afford it, and you said you wouldn't steal anymore." Sam replied, giving Dean an accusing glare, turning the bread in his hands.

"When have I ever broken a promise, dude?" Dean questioned. "And I won't steal it, especially not on Reaping Day. Even Deacon wouldn't be able to help me if I got caught. I sold some fish yesterday at the Anchor, and I still have a little money left over from my shift" Dean told him, smiling as he bit into some of the bread. Dean worked after school as a deckhand. It was hard, physical work, and the pay wasn't great, but it was the only place that would take him.

"Ok" Sam agreed, biting into the bread. He knew Dean had broken plenty of promises, but never one made to Sam. Sam even remembered Dean breaking a promise to their father once, which had shocked Sam. Dean practically worshipped the ground their dad work on, in his opinion.

"I'm gonna wake up Dad, so you go and have a bath. Unless you want me to go first?" Dean asked with a smirk. Sam cringed at the thought, he knew Dean hadn't bathed for a couple of days, so he still had the grime of the boat on him, and it would take more than fresh water to make the bath clean again.

"Na, I'll go first." Sam told him, almost running out of the room to the little, metal tub, grabbing some boiling water from the fire.

Dean smirked and turned to his father, still snoring. "Dad." Dean said, shaking him gently. "Dad!" Shaking him a little harder. John bolted upright, and started to swing in defence, Dean neatly hopping out of the way with practise. Finally, John took in his surroundings and focused on Dean.

"What's the matter?" He asked him, glancing around the room "Where's Sammy?" He asked, noticing Sam's empty bed.

"He's taking a bath. You need to get ready, it's Reaping Day" Dean reminded him.

John rubbed his hand down his face and groaned. "Crap" he muttered to himself, not that he really forgot. The reaping was one of the worst days of the year, tying with the anniversary of Mary's death. He hated the idea of sending his eldest son to his possible death, and he hated the thought that Sam would be joining Dean in two years. "What time is it?"

"Sometime around ten." Dean responded, putting a bowl of water on the fire for his bath. They didn't have a clock in their house, it had broken years ago on one of John's drunken rampages, so Dean learnt to read the sun, which is only half helpful.

"Still got a couple of hours then" John noted, glad he would have some time to make himself look partially presentable. Dean nodded his head, he wasn't in the mood for small talk. He just wanted the reaping to be over so he could carry on looking after his family.

* * *

At twelve o'clock, the three Winchester's headed to the square, which overlooked the docks. Dean dressed in a light blue shirt and black trousers, making him fidget uncomfortably. He was used to his plaid shirt over a t-shirt, jeans and boots.

"Will you stop that?" John hissed at him, having to tell him this every year. John never meant to scorn Dean before the Reaping, but his tensions were high and it always slipped out. He didn't miss the glare Sam gave him for the comment

"I feel like a monkey in a suit" Dean complained, messing with the collar of his shirt.

"You're lucky I didn't force you into a tie" John grumbled at him. "Now, stop fidgeting and stop complaining." John ordered, a tone of finality clear in his voice, slapping Dean's hand away from the collar.

"Yes sir" Dean replied, keeping his hand next to his leg as he walked. Sam rolled his eyes at his father and the Peacekeeper like response Dean replied with, but kept his head down, now was not a time to start arguing with them.

Everybody filed silently into the square, even the bravest among them feeling the nerves kick in. The reaping was a great way for the Capitol to keep tabs on the populations, as everybody had to attend the ceremony. The only reason not to be, was if you were at deaths door, and Peacekeepers would come checking later to make sure you were.

"I'll see you later" Dean told to his father and Sam. Sam pulled him into a hug, before following their father to where the spectators stood. Dean followed all the twelve to eighteen year olds to the roped off areas, walking into the age group that contained all the fourteen year olds.

The mayor stood up and said his piece, talking about the Dark Days and how the Hunger Games arose from it. The Hunger Games were punishment for the uprising of the districts, only twelve out of thirteen remained after the Dark Days- District Thirteen was turned into rubble. As punishment, each district had to give one female and one male tribute to the Capitol, and the tributes were sent into the arena to fight to the death, until one lone victor remained.

Dean zoned the majority of the speech out, it wasn't until their escort came out that Dean paid attention. She was young, and in Dean's opinion very pretty. Tessa, Dean remembered, was unlike the other Capitol citizens he had seen, she looked normal. She had black hair in a bob cut, average height, and wore a simple white top and trousers. Even though she looked almost normal, he still detested her as he detested everyone form the Capitol.

"Happy Hunger Games!" Tessa said loudly, "And may the odds be ever in your favour. Ladies first" She said, walking over to the bowl and plucking out a name. "Coral Haynes" Tessa read out.

A seventeen year old walked up onto the stage nervously, taking worried glances around her. Tessa encouraged her up onto the stage, offering out her hand as Coral walked shakily up the steps to the stage. Coral stood up onto the stage, tears running down her face, and looked out at all the spectators, probably trying to single out her family amongst the crowd.

"Now for the boys" Tessa said, reaching into the boy's bowl. She firmly grasped a little slip of paper, and cleared her throat before reading out the name. "Dean Winchester."


	2. Goodbyes

**A/N- Hello. Thanks to the people who followed and reviewed my story! It really helps to know whether you enjoyed the chapter or not. Please remember to leave a review, it honestly does help writers :)**

 **Disclaimer- Still don't either of them, just fan :)**

Dean felt the air go out of his lungs. Surely she didn't mean him, did she? He glanced around and saw people parting ways to allow him to pass through to get to the stage. Dean gulped and regained his composure and walked to the front with his head held high. He ignored the screams of his name he heard from his brother and walked to the stage, plastering a charming smile on his face as he stood next to Tessa. He didn't look for his dad or Sam as he stared out to the crowd, knowing that it would break his cool composure.

"Any volunteers?" Tessa asked the crowd.

A single hand went up, belonging to an eighteen-year-old girl, a career. "I volunteer as tribute" she shouted as she walked towards the stage. Dean glanced around at the boys, praying for one of them to raise their hands. But nobody else did. There was just a cold silence.

"What is your name?" Tessa asked the girl

"Kai Spurr." The girl replied proudly. She was a few inches taller than Dean, tanned skin and long dark brown hair.

"Well it looks like we have our tributes," Tessa announced, signalling for the Mayor to read out the Treaty of Treason. Dean once again ignored the Mayor, thinking about was about to happen. He was about to go into the games, probably as one of the youngest. He had been trained, but would he be able to beat an eighteen-year-old who had not only trained longer than him, but was also taller than him and was healthier thanks to her wealthier lifestyle? What about Sammy if- when he died in the games? Who would look after him? As soon as the Mayor finished, he motioned for Dean and Kai to shake hands and then they both followed him into the Justice Building.

"Dean!" Sam shouted, running into the room and bringing his brother into a tight hug. Sam burst into tears, and Dean let a single tear escape. "I don't want you to go Dean. Please don't go!"

"Sam, I have to. I'm so sorry," Dean said to him, not letting go of his brother.

"Make sure you win Dean" Sam told him, pulling out of the hug. "You have to come back," Sam said firmly.

"I'll try Sammy-"

"No. You have to promise me," Sam said to him.

"Sam, I can't make you a promise I can't ke-" Dean started to say.

"Promise me. You'll be able to keep it. Just promise me you'll come back alive."

"Fine, I promise," Dean replied reluctantly.

"Good," Sam said, smiling a little with relief. "Here, I brought this for you," Sam told him, pulling out a necklace from his pocket. Dean took the necklace, and stared at the amulet on it. "It was supposed to be for Dad's birthday, but now it can be your token."

"If it's for Dad then-" Dean started to refuse, but Sam interrupted.

"He's not the one going to the arena. I want you to have it," Sam told him in a firm voice. Dean bit back a grin, despite what Sammy said, he was more like their father than he cared to admit.

"Thanks, Sam. I love it," Dean said earnestly, quickly putting on the necklace.

John walked into the room, having wanted to give Sam and Dean a little alone time together. "Hey Dean," John said, a sad smile formed on his face as he walked over to Dean, putting a reassuring hand on his son's shoulder "I want you to make me proud, ok son?" John said to Dean

"Yes sir," Dean replied, naturally standing a little straighter.

"Make you proud?!" Sam blurted out, glaring at his father. "That's all you have to say?! This is all your fault!"

"Sam-" Dean tried to interrupt, knowing that things were about to escalate.

"How's that exactly?!" He asked Sam, ignoring Dean. He was angered that his youngest son would accuse him of sending his eldest son to death.

"If you just had a job, then we wouldn't be in this mess. Dean wouldn't have to put his name in extra times for the tesserae! He probably wouldn't have been picked if he hadn't!" Sam said, stepping closer to their father, Dean barely blocking the pair.

"Yeah, well if-"

"Enough!" Dean shouted, fed up of hearing his family argue once again. "Can we not argue, for once? Not today. Not now." Dean pleaded. Both John and Sam looked guiltily down at the floor, and Sam took a small step back. "Good. Sam, it's not Dad's fault, it's the Capitol's. Blame them. I don't want you picking a fight with him whilst I'm gone either." Dean told Sam, before turning to his father "Dad, I need you to make me a promise."

"Anything," John said to him.

"If I die, you need to look after Sam, and I mean properly. That means no drinking and you get a god damn job. You make sure Sam never has to collect a single grain of tesserae. I don't care if that means that you have to work all hours of the day, have five jobs, you make sure Sam never puts in his name more than he has to. Sam is to want for nothing. Have you got that?" Dean asked his father, feeling slightly odd that he was giving the orders for once. John simply nodded his head. "Good."

"You're going to come back, Dean," John told him "I know it. But no matter what happens, I will become a better father, for both of you." John promised, causing Dean to smile, but for Sam to shake his head and roll his eyes. John always promised to become better, but a tracker jacker's could never change their stinger.

A few minutes later, a Peacekeeper walked into the room, and orders John and Sam out. Sam clung onto Dean, not wanting to leave. "Hey, no chick flick moments." Dean whispered to his brother, trying to stay strong. In truth, he never wanted to let go of him, but he knew he had to be the strong one and let go first. Sam nodded his head, and wiped away his tears with his sleeve, before following his father out of the room with a single wave of goodbye.


	3. The Train Journey

**A/N- Hello again! I see you have made it to chapter 3. I hope you're enjoying the story. Please could you do me a massive favor and leave a review with your thoughts! Thank you!**

 **Disclaimer- I still don't own anything to do with the characters or setting. Sucks, I know.**

Dean rode in a car to the train station, something he had never done before. Most of the time he walked to get across the district, although he did sometimes jump onto a back of a wagon when the owner wasn't looking.

As they reached the train station, cameras and reporters were everywhere. He kept a calm composure, putting on his usual cocky smile, as they waited for the train doors to open. Occasionally, he would take a glimpse at Kai, who completely ignored him except for the odd glare she sent his way. Unlike him, she waved to the cameras, smiling, confident.

Finally, the train doors opened and Dean almost ran onboard, glad to be out of the camera's view. The train has already started to depart, throwing Dean off guard slightly. It wasn't one of the high-speed trains, those were for the districts furthest away from the Capitol, ensuring they all arrived the next morning, but Dean was surprised at how fast it still went.

Dean was amazed by the tribute train. Each of them were given their own chambers, including a bedroom, changing room and bathroom. Tessa told Dean that he could do what he wanted, but just to be ready in half an hour for dinner. Dean nodded his head and rummaged around the room, looking through the clothes and ornaments around him. He had never seen anything so grandeur, not even the richest in District Four had expensive things like these. He even played around with the shower, never having one before. He was delightfully surprised when hot water burst out of it.

Nearly an hour later, Dean emerged from his room, still in the same things he arrived in. He entered the dining room carriage and stared at the table that was filled with various dishes. He noticed Kai was already there, giving him an annoyed look, making Dean smirk. He assumed that she had not been allowed to eat until he arrived.

"Nice of you to join us, Dean," a middle-aged man said to him gruffly. Dean recognised him as Robert Singer, winner of the thirty-ninth hunger games, and an ex-friend of his father.

"And hello to you too, Bobby," Dean said, slightly stiffly. "I haven't seen you since you chased my Dad out of your house, waving a knife at him," Dean recalled. After his mom died, John had met Bobby, although Dean wasn't sure why, and over the years had become close friends with the victor. However, a few years ago, there was a huge argument, with Dean vaguely remembering it about himself and Sam, causing John to be run out of the house with a knife, tugging a confused Sam and Dean along with him. As soon as they had returned back to the house, John had made them swear that they would never see or speak to Bobby again, but considering he was being taken to his imminent death, Dean figured it would be ok to break the rule now.

"Yeah, well, your daddy just has that effect on people I guess," Bobby replied.

Dean smiled slightly. "Yeah, I guess he does."

"Dean, this is Pamela Barnes", Bobby said, pointing at the woman next to him. Dean vaguely remembered her, she was the winner of the fifty-eighth hunger games, winning them at seventeen years old. "She's going to be a mentor too."

"Hey," Dean simply said, and she smiled back.

"She says she's partially blind, but you make a rude gesture at her, and she'll bite your head off," Bobby said, smiling, and Pamela nudged him with her elbow.

"Ignore him," she told Dean. "Now, we can either mentor you two together, or we can mentor you separately. Bobby could be a mentor for one of you, and I'll mentor the other. It's up to you two."

"Separately," Kai said quickly, glaring at Dean to dare say otherwise.

Dean shrugged. The less time he was with that psychopath, the better. "Works for me."

"I'll take Dean. Pamela, you'll mentor Kai," Bobby suggested. Dean nodded his head, seeming apathetic, but secretly glad that he was with Bobby. At least he was with someone he knew, someone who had treated him like a son until the incident with his dad.

"That's fine by me." Pamela said, turning around and bent over to look for something in a cupboard.

"Who's Jesse?" Dean asked, noticing the tattoo on her lower back, saying 'Jesse Forever'.

Pamela laughed slightly. "Well, it wasn't forever," Pamela told him, turning to face him.

Dean tutted slightly. "His loss," Dean said to her smiling, and she simply shrugged in response.

Dean, Kai, Bobby, Pamela and Tessa all tucked into their dinner. Dean ignored anything that looked like fruit or vegetables and tucked into anything unhealthy with meat. He discovered he particularly enjoyed the bacon cheeseburgers, and the pie. Dean had not had pie for years, not since his mom had died. The Capitol pie was not as good as the pie his mom used to make, but it was still good. Kai, on the other hand, did the exact opposite and stuck only to fruit and salad, eating what Dean preferred to call 'rabbit food'.

After they had all finished their diner, Dean feeling slightly sick from the amount he ate, they all headed to another compartment to watch the reaping. After the reaping ceremony was shown, Dean had an idea who the main competitors were. Both the boys and girls from District One and Two-who had all volunteered and were at the ripe old age of eighteen, the boy from Three, Kai, the boy from Seven and the boy from Eight.

Dean sighed, the Career pack looked like a tough one to beat this year, and he didn't like the cruel glint in the eye of the District One boy. Kai announced she was going to bed shortly after the television recap ended, as did Pamela and Tessa. But Dean remained rooted to the couch, wanting to talk to his mentor.

"I have to win, Bobby. I have to win for Sammy," Dean said finally. "How am I going to win against the Careers?"

"Sponsors" Bobby grumbled. "It doesn't matter how good you are at fighting or hiding, you won't survive without sponsors. When you're dehydrated, hungry or freezing, they will provide you the gifts to survive."

"How do I get them?"

"Make them like you, ya ijdit. You need a game plan, about how you're going to act. Are you going to be shy, cheeky, flirtatious?" Bobby asked him.

"I don't know, I never really thought about it," Dean admitted, "What do you think?"

"Well you're good looking and you look mature for your age, the Capitol will fall in love with you. Seeing you around the girls in Four, I recon you should go with flirtatious." Bobby admitted, taking another gulp of his whiskey.

Dean nodded his head, he could do that. Since he was ten, he knew he was defined as good looking, and that he had good charisma. He had lost count of the number of times he had sweet talked his way out of trouble, or even just giving his most winning smile.

"I can do that."

"Good," Bobby replied. The pair sat there in an awkward silence, Dean tapping his fingers on the leather couch and Bobby turning his empty whiskey glass in his hands. After a few minutes, Bobby was the first to break the silence. "You know, when I ran your father out of my house, it wasn't meant to be forever, and it wasn't meant for you and Sam. It was a heat of the moment thing, with a little help of this," raising his glass slightly. Dean merely shrugged in response.

Bobby sighed, knowing Dean well enough that he would blame himself. "You know it wasn't your fault, don't you? Me and your daddy, well we disagreed with a lot of things, and well things got out of hand, and you and Sam just got caught in the cross fire. I was trying to get into John's thick skull that you were missing your childhood, but instead I just pushed you all away. For that, I'm sorry."

Dean nodded his head, glancing up from his hands to look at Bobby, and smiled. "It's fine, there was nothing to forgive."

Bobby grinned in return. He had missed the boys. "Now you had better get some shut eye. Gotta look pretty for the cameras tomorrow," Bobby told him. Dean did as he was told and headed to his chambers, falling into an uneasy sleep.


	4. The Parade

**A/N- I hope you are enjoying the story! I'm going to do some shameless begging here and ask you to please, please, please leave a review. Honestly, it really does help. Tell me what you are thinking of the chapter/story.**

 **Disclaimer- Don't own nothing.**

"Dean, wake up!" a voice said over him.

"Just five more minutes, Sammy," Dean mumbled, turning over. It took a moment for Dean to remember where he was and reminded himself that it wasn't his brother's voice that called, it was Bobby's.

"We'll be arriving soon. You need to get up," Bobby told him, and Dean heard him walk away from the door. Dean sighed and crawled out of the bed, which was too soft in his opinion. Dean wandered down the train, entering the dining carriage again, and found everybody was sat down, finishing their breakfast.

"Morning," Dean said, sitting himself down next to Bobby and reached over the table for some bread.

"We'll be arriving soon, and your stylist is going to have you for the day so you are ready for the parade" Bobby informed him. "Now, you aren't going to like what they are going to do to you, but just do as you're told, " Bobby said to him.

"What are they going to do to me?" Dean asked, worried.

"You'll find out in a minute. I'll see you after though," Bobby told him, with a slight smile. Dean was about to protest, and demand Bobby told him what was going to happen to him with his prep team, but he caught a glimpse of the Capitol out of the corner of his eye.

Dean walked over to the window, amazed at the beauty of the Capitol. The mountains ran across the edge, separating the Capitol from the east. Dean remembered being told that was how the rebels lost in the dark days, as the Capitol ambushed them by aircraft as they tried to scale the mountain. The buildings they passed were sky high, taller than he had ever seen. It looked cleaner too, than his District. Dean couldn't help but be amazed by the scene, whilst ignoring the scoff at him from Kai.

Capitol citizen's noticed the tribute train come past, pointing eagerly at them. Bobby said they needed to like him, Dean reminded himself. Dean waved at them, smiling slightly. Soon the train came to a stop, and both he and Kai were ushered off the train by Tessa. It seemed as though hundreds of Capitol citizens were waiting at the train station. He heard a few people call his name, and he gave them his most winning smile, making a couple of women shriek. Dean barely managed to resist rolling his eyes. _God, they are pathetic_ , Dean thought to himself.

Dean was led away from Kai in the Remake Centre, followed by his prep team. He was sold to strip, and then to lay down onto the table. Dean obliged, grumbling slightly out of discomfort of being naked in front of strangers. First they washed him with gritty soap, getting rid of any dirt and a couple of layers of skin. His nails were neatly trimmed down, stray hairs on his eyebrows and anywhere else that was not deemed acceptable to the Capitol was removed. Dean ground his teeth together throughout the mission, letting a few rude words escape as they tore his hair from his body.

After a few hours, the prep team made a huddle in the corner of the room, quietly discussing him. "His hair is too short to do anything with," he heard one of the crew mutter to the others, causing him to smile slightly. Unlike Sam, he kept his dark blonde hair short-cropped, meaning there was little anybody could do to style it.

"Hmm, maybe it's better that way," Another prep team member said. "It suits him," she muttered, taking a glance at Dean. Dean gave her a wink, causing the woman to blush. After checking once again that every rogue hair on his body had been removed, the prep team went and fetched his stylist.

"Well, aren't you hansom?" His stylist said to him, grinning slightly. "Not much work needs to be done to make you stand out," she told him, handing him his robe so he no longer had to be naked. Dean quickly put it on, feeling slightly more comfortable.

She beckoned Dean out of the room into a new room, with a couch, three walls and a glass wall, showing the Capitol. Dean sat down on the couch, grabbing one of the mini sausages on a stick and popping it into his mouth.

"I bet you can't wait to see the costume I have designed for you," his stylist said and Dean only shrugged in response. He didn't care, so long as he didn't look like a complete idiot. His stylist pulled out his costume, and Dean stared at it for a while. It was dress like, and would be hanging from his left shoulder. Dean could clearly see it was designed to look like it was made from seaweed, using different shades of green and brown, and the material made it shimmer slightly, as though it had been freshly plucked from the sea. The bottom of the outfit cut off mid-thigh, and a small split was made at the side at the bottom to allow some movement.

"We thought seaweed this year, and I think it'll bring out your eyes," His stylist told him. "I'm going to wrap a band of seaweed down your leg in a spiral," she added. "I thought the crown has been overdone."

"I don't wear dresses", Dean said finally, glaring at the outfit. _Sam will never let me live this down_ , Dean thought to himself.

"It's not a dress, it's a toga," She corrected him kindly, as though it made all the difference in the world.

"Listen, sweetheart, I don't even do shorts. There's no way I'm wearing a friggin' dress," Dean said firmly.

"It's too late to change it. You'll look good in it, honest."

An hour later, after much grumbling and persuasion, Dean was forced into his outfit. As a compromise, however, he was still allowed to wear his amulet tucked under his toga. Afterwards, they went down to the bottom of the Remake Centre, where the chariots were kept for the parade. He walked over to his chariot, grabbing a handful of sugar cubes on the way, where Kai was already there.

"Nice dress," She snorted.

"It's a toga," Dean mumbled, popping a sugar cube into his mouth. Sugar cubes were an expensive pleasure in 4. He looked at Kai up and down, she was also in the seaweed dress, although some golden seaweed was added to her hair, which she wore down. Dean had to admit, she did look pretty in her outfit.

"You know those are for the horses," Kai told him, pointing at the sugar cubes in his hands.

Dean shrugged. "They have years to eat them," Dean told her simply, as he shoved the last one into his mouth, grinning, before turning away from her.

The opening music begins and Dean quickly hops onto his chariot. As soon as he does, the horses start to move and he was pulled into the city. Dean smiles and waves, giving an odd wink here and there. He can hear people chanting his name, calling for his attention. The Capitol were even showering him with flowers. He caught a glimpse of himself on one of the large television screens, and his stylist was right, he did look hansom in the costume. Not that he was any happier about wearing it.

Dean continues to act like this, catching the odd flower, and sniffing it. Eventually, all he could hear was the booming sound of his name. It wasn't until he reached the President Snow's mansion. President Snow said his usual welcome, and it was traditional at this point to cut away to individual faces of the tributes, but Dean could have sworn that he spent more time on the television than the others.

Finally the national anthem plays once again, and the chariots returned to the Remake Centre. Bobby clapped Dean on the back as he got off his chariot "Well done, Dean," Bobby congratulated, "I think you just got some admires out there."

Dean smiled, but didn't miss the glare Kai was shooting him "What?" He asked her, annoyed at her attitude.

"I'm bound to have hardly any sponsors thanks to you," she spat at him, ripping the golden seaweed from her hair.

"You know, I don't even feel a little bad about that," Dean told her. He had always disliked her. Even since they were younger, she would turn her nose up at him.

"I will kill you in the games, district partner or not," Kai said, before turning on her heel and stormed to the lifts.

"Oh don't go away angry, just go away," Dean called after her, causing Bobby to roll his eyes and the few remaining tributes to stare.

"Don't piss her off too much before the games, you don't want her to make you a real target. Idjit," he warned Dean, before leading him towards the lifts.


	5. Tribute Training

**A/N- Good day to you all! Thanks to the people who reviewed, followed and favourited the story so far! I hope everyone enjoys this chapter. Please leave a review after the chapter :)**

 **Disclaimer- Still don't own it...**

Dean and Bobby traveled up to the fourth floor of the Training Centre. It felt weird for Dean, to travel in an elevator, he had never done so before. The closest he ever had was when he had been arrested to stealing, but all the cells were on the ground floor.

When Dean stepped out onto his floor, he was amazed by the size of the room. It was ten times bigger than his house back in District Four. "Why don't you clean yourself up before dinner?" Bobby suggested, knowing Dean wouldn't want to stay in the toga for any longer than he had to. "Your rooms the first on the left" Bobby told him, and Dean hastily retreated to it.

After having a shower, Dean grabbed the most normal clothing he could a black t-shirt and a pair of blue trousers. Both Kai and Dean are silent during the meal, ignoring each other. Dean was used to that by now, having been ignored by children most of his life. Even his friends from a couple of years ago ignored him now. Their parents had told them to stay away from him, not wanting their children associated with such a troublemaker.

After dinner, they all watched the recap of the parade, and Dean could see why Kai was annoyed. Much of the coverage discussed him, even the camera remained in him longer than other tributes. As soon as the recap was over, both of them headed to their quarters, in hope to be well rested for training the next day.

* * *

Dean woke up early in the morning. After showering, and slipped on the outfit his stylist had left him before he headed to breakfast, where only Bobby was there.

"I'd thought you'd be up early," Bobby told him, as Dean grabbed a plate to pile on his breakfast. "I wanted to talk to you before Kai came."

"Why?"

"Well if you have any special skills, I don't think you would like her to know about them, would you?" Bobby asked. Dean quickly shook his head. "Didn't think so. So what are you good at? I know your dad trained you."

"I can catch fish," Dean said, but he knew Bobby already knew that. Bobby used to be one of his buyers of his illegally caught fish- before the argument. "I can spar," Dean admitted, "And I can sort of kill with a knife," Dean remembered, having brought down a rogue bobcat that had gotten through the district fence and was attempting to eat Dean's catchings.

"What's your favourite weapon?" Bobby asked him.

"Except for a gun?" Dean asked sarcastically. His father had taken out of the district a couple of times, taking him to shoot at empty bottles. He had called him a natural when he hit every single one of them on his first attempt. Bobby rolled his eyes and waited for a proper answer. Dean thought about it for a second. "A trident," he admitted, "but they hardly ever have them in the arena."

"It is unusual," Bobby agreed. "Try to show it as one of your special skills in the private sessions if you can. Don't use it during the communal practise, or even your knife throwing," Bobby told him. "You don't want to become a target, and the others won't know where you are strongest," Bobby added when Dean was about to argue. "Go onto other stations, like edible plants, fire making, or even have some fun on the rope tying section."

Dean sighed but nodded his head. It was at that moment Kai walked in, ending any discussion. "What time is training?" She asked Bobby, blatantly ignoring Dean.

"Ten o'clock" Bobby informed her. Kai nodded he head and sat gracefully down into her seat, as far away as possible from Dean. _Anyone would have thought I had the bloody plague_ , Dean thought bitterly to himself. Not that he particularly wanted to be her friend but it would have been nice to have someone to have some form of conversation with before they head to their deaths.

Quickly shoving the last mouthful of food into his mouth, he quickly headed to his chambers again. Having nothing to do, Dean roamed around the room, playing with the buttons he found in order to pass the time before he had to go down to training.

It was ten minutes to ten when Tessa came knocking on his door, ordering him to come out of his room. Dean sighed, but obliged, and Tessa escorted both him and Kai to the training room. When the elevator doors open, Dean saw a huge gymnasium, filled with an assortment of weapons and assault courses.

Despite arriving early, they were not the first ones there, tributes form One, Two and Ten were there too. As he stepped out of the elevator, he didn't miss the sadistic smile from the boy from District One.

Ten minutes later, all the tributes had arrived, the ones from Twelve were last. Dean took this moment to study his opponents. He was about average height compared to them. He had more muscle compared to the outlying districts, but he wasn't as stocky as the Careers or some of the other districts, such as Five and Seven. He noticed the majority looked older than him, but he noticed a twelve-year-old boy, hopping nervously from foot to foot.

The head trainer, Atala, stepped up and started to explain the training schedule. Dean noticed she sounded nervous, and she was young, so he assumed it was her first year as head trainer. _Great, an inexperienced trainer_ , Dean thought to himself, _the odds aren't in my favour._ She told them that experts in each skill will remain at their stations, and they were free to travel to each of them as they choose. She informed them that some of the stations provided survival techniques, others contained fighting skills. Any combat between other tributes was forbidden, but there were assistants to hand if you wanted to practice with a partner.

Dean combed his eyes around the room, looking at the various stations. When Atala releases them for training, and Dean headed over to the knot tying section. The expert looked pleased to see him, although looked slightly annoyed when he couldn't help Dean with any of the knots. Dean moved onto snares, which he found more difficult. He was used to setting traps in water, but on land, they were slightly different. In the end, he managed to make a decent trap, causing people to become entangled in a net. He noticed that a couple of the gamemakers, who were watching from stands or walking around the room jotting down notes, nod their head in approval when Dean set up another successful trap.

After an hour and a half at that station, he moved to fire building. He struggled more here, not being able to get the spark from his flint to catch the kindling alight. He managed to start a flame just before they were called for lunch.

Dean grabbed his food tray and sat down on a single table by himself, not wanting to socialise. He wasn't the only one, the majority of the tributes sat on their own. The pair from District Three sat together, as did the pair from Twelve- although they also sat with the girl from eight. And, of course, the careers sat together, Kai being one of them. They were the loudest, but Dean was sure that was on purpose, attempting to intimidate the weaker ones.

Balthazar, however, dumped his tray loudly on the table next to Dean. "I'm sorry, is this seat taken?" Balthazar asked sarcastically to Dean before scraping the chair loudly on the floor and sitting down on it. Dean glared at him before staring at the food on his plate "I'm Balthazar." Balthazar informed him, as he started to dig into his own meal. Dean ignored Balthazar and continued with his own meal "Well, aren't you Mr. Social?"

"What do you want?" Dean growled at him.

"Just a little friendly conversation. Time to rip up the rule book about not talking to separate districts, after the situation we're in," Balthazar told Dean. Dean rolled his eyes and returned to shoveling the mashed potato into his mouth. "Fine, I'll start. If you could change any point in history, what would it be?" Balthazar asked.

"What?" Dean replied, surprised at the random question.

"You see, for me, I would unsink the Titanic."

He could vaguely remember a boat of that name, from before Panem. It was one of the rare pieces of information they were taught about life from before Panem, but the school had deemed it a necessary piece of information to learn as not to have the same mistakes in ship design. "How do you know about it?" It was natural for District 4, the sea district, to learn this information but not other districts.

"I know a lot of things," Balthazar said quietly. "Anyway, you didn't ask me why."

"Fine. Why?' Dean asked, uninterested.

"Because I hated the movie. That god- awful Celine Dion song made me want to smite myself!" Balthazar explained.

Dean rolled his eyes and returned to his food. "I'm not having allies," Dean told him, a couple of minutes later, not looking up.

"I didn't say I wanted you as an ally, did I?" Balthazar replied. "And I wouldn't shout it around, it makes you an easier target," Balthazar pointed out.

"Then what do you want?" Dean said, narrowing his eyes.

"Just some friendly conversation, which I am getting overwhelmed with here," Balthazar told him sarcastically.

"Yeah, well I don't do friendly," Dean told him, finishing his last mouthful.

"Well that's obvious," Balthazar agreed. "Anyway, delightful conversation with you, Dean. Sorry that it has to end, but I have more friends to make," Balthazar told him before getting up and leaving the table.

* * *

At dinner, Bobby kept prompting Dean for information about how his training was going, how the other tributes were taking to him.

"I'm not having allies," Dean told Bobby as soon as Pamela and Kai left the table

"They could be useful in terms of protection and survival," Bobby told Dean, but Dean shook his head.

"I can't trust any of them to not stab me in the back whilst I'm asleep," Dean said to him. "They're all psycho's."

Bobby sighed but nodded his head. "Alright, it's your choice. Now you have to make sure to impress the sponsors," Bobby informed him.

* * *

On the third day, after lunch, all the tributes had their private sessions, their last chance to impress the Gamemakers. They were all called one by one, in order of each district, the boy first.

Dean shook his leg anxiously as the girl from District Three, Telle, had been in her session for ten minutes. He knew that this was one of the last chances to gain sponsors, which he knew he would need. He hated the idea of relying on someone from the Capitol for his survival, but it was something he would have to do if he wanted to Sam again.

His name was called, and he walked into the room. The Gamemakers were talking to each other, but fortunately still paying attention. Dean noticed the wine glasses in their hands and the bottles that remained on the table and was truly glad that he wasn't from District Twelve, who had to go last.

Dean didn't bother introducing himself, except to give a quick wink to one of the female Gamemakers who giggled in response, and then scanned the weapons. There was no trident in sight. Dean rolled his eyes, of course it would be his damn luck that his best weapon wasn't there. Reluctantly he grabbed the set of knives.

Finding a dummy to show his skills on, Dean stood ten meters away from the dummy. Dean quickly gabbed the hilt of one of the throwing knives, and threw it easily into the dummy's heart. He continued this for a while before retrieving the multiple knives sticking out of the dummies chest and showed the Gamemakers his fighting techniques with it.

After thoroughly killing the dummy, the Gamemakers dismissed him, and Dean put on his best smile to them, making a couple of them blush.

"How did it go?" Bobby asked him as soon as Dean got back onto his floor.

"Fine, I guess. I mean, I couldn't show them my damn trident skills because they hadn't put one out. Had to settle with knives. I wasn't bad, I don't think, but I definitely wasn't the best" Dean said shrugging.

Bobby simply nodded his head "Tomorrow, we have the whole day to coach you before your interview. That's your last chance you get to gain sponsors" Bobby warned him.

"Yeah. Just tell me when my score is being announced" Dean requested with a sigh and walked to his chambers, not wanting to see Kai when she returned. Dean wasn't looking forward to the scores.

Bobby tapped on Dean's door, calling him for dinner. Dean didn't miss the smile Kai had over her face when he was sat down. Obviously, her session went well. As soon as they finished dinner, they all sat on the couch, like they did after the parade, and waited anxiously for the scores.

The boy from One, Alistair, received a ten as did the female tribute, Lilith. The boy from District Two, Raphael, scored a ten, but the girl scored an eight. The boy from Three, Chet, also scored an eight.

Dean was happily surprised when he scored a ten, two points above Kai's. Of course, Kai wasn't as happy to be scoring less than her district partner and promptly stormed out of the room. The boy from Seven, Zachariah, scored an eight and the boy from Eight, Balthazar, scored a nine. Dean was right to mark them as competitors. The other tributes mustered an average score of five. Bobby gave Dean a reassuring nod after the programme had finished, clapping him on the back.


	6. The Interview

**A/N- Hola mis amigos! Como estas? Thanks for reading the story so far, I hope you're enjoying it! Thanks you for the reviews, please keep them coming.**

 **Disclaimer- No soy dueño de los personajes**

"Ladies and Gentleman," Caesar Flickerman projected to the audience, a smile playing happily on his face. "Welcome to the Sixty-Fifth Hunger Games!"

Dean took a deep breath, scanning the crowd who had all bought tickets to watch the interviews. There seemed to be hundreds of people there. He felt nervous on the stage, people being able to see him so easily, but he couldn't really see them because of all the lights in his face. He could only see siloettes.

Dean shifted on his chair, anxious to have his turn and get the interview over with. He had spent half of the day with his stylist and prep team again, making himself 'pretty' for the vultures. He was glad that he wasn't in a dress again, but in a black and white suit that they called a tuxedo. He felt ridiculous, but according to his stylist, he looked handsome, not that he really trusted her.

Dean glanced back at Caesar, who was still introducing the Hunger Games. The man was wearing an all green outfit, making him seem slightly sickly. Finally, tributes were starting to be called up to their three-minute interview.

First, it was the boy from District One, Alastair. Dean cringed at his voice, its sound giving him the creeps. Dean could tell from the interview that the boy as a sadist, and he had no intention of hiding it. He even had a serial killer level of calmness showing.

Next was the girl from One, Lilith. Dean concluded that despite her sweet appearance, and her girly dresses, she was no better than Alastair, and another tribute to avoid at all costs. He noted that she seemed strategic in her manner, something that he would have to watch out for, then her just being a psycho bitch. The boy from Two, Raphael, seemed serious, and traditional, definitely not the class clown. Dean could tell that he supported the games and was truly honored to be in them. Dean also heard arrogance in his tone, possibly a characteristic he could manipulate into a weakness. The boy from three, Chet, also stood out to Dean. He was yet another crazy SOB, and yet again arrogant. Dean sighed to himself, _is everybody a psychopath in these games?_

Soon enough, Dean was called to the seat. Dean shook Caesar's hand before sitting down in the chair, smiling as he did so. Dean took a deep breath. _Be charming_.

"Dean Winchester," Caesar said loudly, grinning as he sat back in his chair, "You let quite an impression during the parade, and you're in quite the outfit tonight. You're stylist sure knows how to play on your stunning looks," Caesar said to him. "Doesn't he look handsome to you?" He said turning to the audience. The audience cheered and screamed back, which both Caesar and Dean laughed at, although Dean's was more forced.

"You're too kind," Dean replied to the audience, waving them off light heartedly.

"Now, how are you enjoying the Capitol?" Caesar asked Dean.

"It's great. The food here is amazing, nothing like in Four."

"Ah, yes, it is delicious," Caesar agreed. "Do you have any favourites?"

"I like the burgers." Dean said with a smile, remembering the bacon cheese burger he had yesterday evening. The amount of greasy food he was eating, Sam would be having a fit. Sam was into the rabbit food crap, always trying to be healthy, but Dean couldn't stand the stuff. Not that they had much choice into what they ate, they got whatever Dean could get his hands on.

"Mm, they are delicious. Although, you have to be careful not to each too many. I think I already have," Caesar said, patting his stomach.

Dean put on a false laugh. He hated doing all of this, but Bobby said sponsors were the key. "Well, it doesn't show," Dean reassured him.

"Well, aren't you too kind?" Caesar said, with a hint of patronisation in his voice. "So, you received an ten in training." Caesar added a long whistle. "That's a high score, especially for a boy as young as you. How do you feel you'll do against the other competitors?"

"I think I'm not somebody to rule out. I may be young, but I'm a survivor, and I want to win these games." Dean told Caesar. He decided not to play too arrogant, but confident. Hopefully the sponsors would choose him as a safe bet.

"Brilliant." Caesar said with a laugh. "Now, District Four, your home. I bet a good looking boy like you has people lining up to date you. Anybody special at home?"

"No. Nobody special." Dean told Caesar honestly. He couldn't deny, there were some beautiful girls at home and sure he had made out with half of them, but none of them meant anything to him. Not really.

"Come on, nobody that you have an eye on?" Caesar pushed.

"No. I mean, nobody in Four has really caught my eye. I'm still looking for the right woman, and if I make it back, maybe I'll find her in the Capitol," Dean replied, giving a little wink to the audience, causing them to cheer.

"Wouldn't that be magnificent? I'm sure we could find you a date," Caesar told him, laughing. The audience cheered in response. "Did your family come to visit you before you left?" Caesar asked him. Dean gulped. This was the topic he wanted to avoid. He didn't want people to know about his family. "Dean?" Caesar questioned when Dean hadn't responded.

Dean cleared his throat. "Yeah. My father and my little brother came to visit."

"Are you and your brother close?" Caesar pushed, and Dean could only nod his head. It was getting harder to keep his usual care-free façade when it involved Sam. "What did he say to you?"

"He made me promise that I would win. And that's a big deal, because I've never broken a promise to him before, and I don't want to start now," Dean said finally.

Caesar opened his mouth to ask another question, but the buzzer quickly cut him off, causing the audience to sigh and complain. "Sorry, it looks like our time is up." Caesar said to Dean before turning to the audience. "Rules are rules," he told them.

Dean smiled as he stood up. "It was a pleasure speaking to you. I hope I do so again soon," Dean said graciously with a final wink, and returned back his seat, the audience cheering his name. He ignored the subtle glares coming off the other tributes as he sat back down. He sat rigidly on his seat, ignoring the remaining tributes interviews, until it was over and they left the stage.

The moment he was out of camera shot, his team swarmed around him, pulling him away from everyone else into the elevator, and trying to find out more information about his brother. Apparently the Capitol couldn't get enough of him, and were heartbroken when they couldn't hear more about his brother. Bobby tried to talk to him and reassure him that he was bound to get plenty of sponsors after that interview, but Dean only replied in short answers. Eventually, he managed to get himself away from everyone, telling them that he wanted to be well rested and resigned himself to his bedroom for perhaps the last night of his life. The odds weren't in his favour. He was one of the youngest, he had less training than the other careers, and there were twenty-three other tributes who wanted to kill him. He only hoped that Bobby was right about the sponsors.


	7. The Games Begin

**A/N- Sup. Thatnk you to the people who reviewed, followed and favourited. The reviews put a massive smile onto my face. Please leave some more :)**

 **Disclaimer- Nope, don't own anything**

Dean stifled a yawn over his breakfast. Despite his best efforts, he had a poor night's sleep, in fact, he figured that he was awake more than he was asleep. Now he was attempting to stuff as much food into himself as possible. Who knew when he was going to get his next meal?

"Dean, there's nothing I can say that will make you feel better," Bobby told him. "But if I could bet on you, I would. You're strategic and you fight well. Be smart in there, and don't make allies with the wrong people," Bobby told him.

Dean nodded his head but stared grimly into his food. "Bobby, will you make me a promise?" Dean asked after a few minutes, and Bobby nodded his head. "If I die in there, could you keep an eye out for Sammy? He needs someone other than Dad and you were the nearest thing we had to a father." Dean told him.

"Of course, ya ijdit. You didn't even have to ask," Bobby replied. Dean smiled, before putting a few more pieces of breakfast into his mouth.

Dean felt sick all the time he was in the hovercraft. He was gripping onto the side of his seat the whole time and decided that he would never get into a hovercraft again if he could help it. There was nobody else with him as he was escorted to the launch room, he had refused to let his stylist be there, that would be the worst thing he could imagine. He hated everyone from the Capitol, especially the women who 'prettied him up' for the camera. Part of him wished that Bobby was here with him, but he convinced himself that no-one was better, nobody so see him terrified.

He noticed the outfit on the bench across the room. A dark green lightweight jacket, boots, heat retaining socks, a black t-shirt and grey-green combat trousers. He couldn't complain, it was pretty much what he would wear at home. Dean changed into his arena clothes, wiggling around in them to put them into the most comfortable position. He was pleasantly surprised when they all fit him perfectly. He supposed his designer wasn't terrible if she could get him the right size.

He heard the voice telling him to get ready for launch and he automatically gripped Sam's necklace tightly for reassurance, allowing it to reduce his anxiety. Not matter what happened, he knew Sam would be ok. Dean didn't even flinch as the plate rose and sunlight burst into his eyes as he entered the arena.

Dean glanced around, trying to take in his surroundings. He could see jungle on the left side of the Cornucopia, and on the right-hand side lay a mountain range. Straight ahead of him, he predicted over two kilometers away, partially blocked by the Cornucopia, were caves. There was a small lake directly behind, surrounded by tall rocks, and Dean pondered whether that was the only water source. Dean stared at the surroundings, deciding where the best place to go after getting a weapon was. He had no idea what the caves could hold. Dean could climb, but he wasn't great and he particularly didn't want to die of hypothermia, so the mountains seemed unlikely. The jungle would likely hold water, a necessity for survival, but other tributes would have the same idea. Despite the rocks surrounding a lot of the lake causing a good amount of hiding places, in theory, it wasn't the smartest place to hide in. Dean heard the countdown tick closer. He glanced over the Cornucopia, looking for a trident, but saw none there. _Damn_ , Dean thought but noticed a knife that would act as a sufficient replacement.

Dean bent down, ready for a sprint start. He wasn't going to be one of those killed in the bloodbath. The moment the cannon went, Dean sprinted towards the Cornucopia. He was one of the first ones there, and he didn't hesitate to pick up a machete and a smaller, wooden handled knife, good for hand to hand combat. He quickly glanced around for anything else that could be of use, but he didn't see anything stand out to him. Dean knew he had spent long enough there and turned around, and started to sprint away from the Cornucopia, when he ran into the girl from District Six, Casey, swinging a mace. She swung at him, and he narrowly dodged it. "You don't want to do this," Dean told her. She only swung again with the mace in response. Dean expertly dodged it, moving around her, trying to move out the danger zone. He didn't really want to kill her, it wasn't her fault she was in the games, but she was trying to kill him. But she continued to swing at him, and each time he dodged. Finally, he attacked back, finding an opening, and gave her a killing blow with his small knife. Dean didn't even wait to see her fall to the ground before he pulled out his knife and ran off into the jungle, not wanting anybody else to attack him.

"You don't want to do this," Dean told her. She only swung again with the mace in response. Dean expertly dodged it, moving around her, trying to move out the danger zone. He didn't really want to kill her, it wasn't her fault she was in the games, but she was trying to kill him. But she continued to swing at him, and each time he dodged. Finally, he attacked back, finding an opening, and gave her a killing blow with his small knife. Dean didn't even wait to see her fall to the ground before he pulled out his knife and ran off into the jungle, not wanting anybody else to attack him.

Dean kept running, not stopping until he was out of breath, and even then he kept walking. It wasn't until he was sure he was away from everybody else that he stopped. He doubled over, feeling sick to his core. That was his first kill of a human. A child. He didn't even know the girl's name. Seconds later, the contents of his stomach made an appearance, causing Dean to lose any food that he had managed to scoff down at breakfast. Dean stayed like this for what seemed like hours, until he heard the cannons boom. Seven, Dean counted. Seven unlucky children had already died, but sixteen were left to play. Dean stood up and shook himself, a pity party for himself wasn't going to make him win the games. He would have to suck it up, like his father had told him countless times years ago, and kill anyone who came across his path. He tried to convince himself that every time he heard the cannon, it would be music to his ears. Perhaps if he said it enough, he would believe it. Dean jogged deeper into the jungle, knowing that he had to start moving again if he was going to win the games.

He glanced around, thinking about what to do next. _Water_ , Dean thought to himself and glanced around. He had no idea whether was even water in the jungle. He quickly looked around for any signs of animals, but he saw none in sight. _Damn it_ , Dean thought to himself, before continuing to walk. As it started to get dark, Dean decided to give up and try again tomorrow, deciding that building shelter was now his best priority. He was sure the was far enough away from the other tributes, and he could keep looking for water and food tomorrow so long as he got a half decent night's sleep.

Dean scanned his environment, looking for any dangers and natural shelters. He didn't want to sleep out in the open, where anybody could see and kill him without giving him time to hear them coming. After a few minutes, he noticed that he was stood over a small ledge of no more than a meter that had a gap underneath just big enough to conceal a person. Dean smiled, knowing that it would be perfect for tonight, maybe even for the next few days if he was lucky. Dean jumped off the ledge, and pushed the grass away in front of the gap, using the last few minutes of daylight to confirm there was no beast under there that was going to kill him whilst he slept. Once he had decided that it was all clear, he crawled his way in, and attempted to make himself comfortable, although his stomach was already growling and his mouth was parched.

He knew it was going to be a long night. It wasn't as though he wasn't used to being hungry. Living in the poorest part of Four, with no steady income, meant hunger came with the territory. But he was used to filling himself up with water instead. Now, he was both dehydrated and hungry.

Just as Dean was eventually closing his eyes to sleep, he was startled awake by the anthem. Dean groaned, knowing that it was going to take him forever to get back to sleep, but looked up into the sky to see who the fallen tributes were. The boy and girl from three, Chet and Telle, appeared first. Then Nina from five. The girl from six appeared next. Becky from Eight. Harvey from Nine. Finally Collis from Twelve.

As soon as the music died out and the faces disappeared, a small parachute came floating down from the sky, landing in the grass in front of him. Dean was confused, hardly anybody got a gift this early on, but when he saw it he grinned from ear to ear. It was a package of food and water. Dean smiled up to the sky, giving it a wink that he was sure the cameras would catch. He quickly gulped down half the water, parching his thirst, and took a few bites of the stew. Dean unsheathed his machete and gripped it tightly in his hand, before putting his head down to sleep, shivering slightly. Not matter how badly he wanted to warm himself up, he knew he couldn't make a fire, knowing that he might as well stand next to the cornucopia with a flashing sign saying 'here I am, kill me!' if he did so.


	8. The Second Day

**A/N- Hiya :) Thanks for continuing to read my story! Thank you to the people who reviewed, favourited and followed! Pretty please leave a review at the end of the chapter :)**

 **Disclaimer- I own nothing I tell you, nothing!**

Dean woke up early in the morning, just a dawn was breaking. Only the sound of birds surrounded him. The moment he opened his eyes, however, a small parachute came down delivering more water and a small loaf of District Four bread. Dean sipped at the water, and finished off last night's stew, keeping the bread he received for later. _What the hell is Bobby playing at?_ Dean thought, confused why his mentor was wasting is sponsors gifts on things he could probably find.

Dean was unsure of what to do, now that he had food and water. All there was left for him to do was to hunt down the other competitors. Dean played with a rock he found on the ground, concerned about what he was about to do. It was one thing to kill in self-defense, but he felt that he was crossing the line if he was seeking out to murder people, children. Dean shook himself, he couldn't think about the morals of what he was doing. Killing others was how he was going to get back to his brother. Sam was all that mattered. How would he be able to protect him if he was dead?

If he was going to do this, he needed a game plan. ' _Go in smart, boy, or don't go in at all,'_ his heard his father's voice in his head. His original idea of entangling his opponents with a net and then finishing them off with a trident, an idea he had once heard about by a gladiator from before the Panem, went out of the window when he reached the Cornucopia. He was skilled at hand to hand combat, his father had made sure of that, but so were others. This was not the place to see if only his hand to hand combat skills were superior. He needed an unfair fight, where only he would be able to attack.

He contemplated the idea of attempting to steal others weapons before he attacked, he was good at being light-footed and light-fingered, he had to be. But he would only be able to do it at night, and those who had allies would have someone on guard. If they noticed him, he would have the complete opposite of what he wanted, an unfair advantage on him.

Dean glanced around at his surroundings, looking for something he could use to make sure he had an advantage when it came to a fight. All there was around him was trees and vines. Dean suddenly had an idea and walked over to the bunch of vines. He cut one off the tree and tugged it as hard as he could, testing its strength. It seemed strong, strong enough to hold catch someone, and remain captured. He knew how to make nets, it was one of the basic skills they were taught back in Four. He could easily substitute the cord for the green vines, leaving an unlucky tribute trapped.

At home, he could make a person sized next in a couple of hours. But here, with make do equipment, having to keep traveling whilst he did so, it would take at least a three-quarters of a day, if not a whole one, to make the net. But Dean knew that would be his best shot and winning, so a couple of days not doing much else would be worth it. After another glance around at his surroundings, Dean decided that the best place to do with was in the tree, allowing himself to be protected and have enough room to make the net.

Dean climbed the nearest tree with little difficulty, having being used to climbing fences and walls since he was young, and gathering greenery suitable for the net on his way up. He eventually found a dip in the branches that he could settle himself into, he left everything he had gathered and his food supplies and went to gather more greenery.

It was almost noon when he had finally returned with enough vines and ivy. Dean settled into the dip, putting his knife and machete safely away and started to make the net, allowing himself a quarter of the bread and water he had received for lunch.

Mid-afternoon, Dean felt uneasy, his hunting senses picking up danger. Letting go of his partially made net, Dean grabbed his machete and moved into a crouch position. He saw the flick of motion from the corner of his eye, and his head whipped around to face it.

Dean stayed there, frozen, and he came face to face with a snake at least four feet long, and staring at him hungrily. Dean gulped and stared straight into the snake's unnaturally glowing yellow eyes. A mutt. _Crap_ , Dean thought to himself, trying to take steadying breaths, _it's fucking venomous_ , Dean noted to himself, noticing the elliptical pupils and heat sensing pits underneath them.

Just as the snake was about to strike at him, Dean swung his machete at it, successfully decapitating it with centimeters to spare. Dean fell back into the dip in the tree, sighing in relief. But it was short lived as, to Dean's horror, the snake's head began to regrow from its body.

"Fuck," Dean swore to himself, pushing himself away from the snake, as its head searched for its attacker once again. The snake's eyes landed on him once again, and it slithered towards him, getting ready for the kill.

Dean scrambled away and started to climb down the tree, but the snake followed him with surprising speed. Dean swung at the snake again the moment his feet placed down onto the ground, successfully decapitating it again, but this time, its head grew back faster and it moved towards him with more speed.

Dean sprinted away, but the snake stalked him, despite getting further and further away from Dean, the snake tracked his exact path easily, and Dean knew that the snake would stalk him until either one died. But Dean didn't know what to do. He knew snakes could swim, so water wasn't an option, and beheading this snake wasn't an option.

Dean smelt the smell of burning wood and groaned internally. This was going to be the only way of killing the snake, by fire. As he couldn't stop to make a fire due to the snake's unnatural speed, it meant that he now he had to use the other person's fire, and then risk combat with someone much more experienced and bigger with him. But it was his only option, and with a deep breath, Dean dived through the vines and sprinted to the fire. Ignoring the tribute, Dean spun and behead he snake once again, before quickly picking it up and throwing it onto the fire. Dean sighed in relief, and hunched over, trying to gain his breath back, when he saw the other tribute draw a knife.

"For god's sake," Dean groaned, standing up straight. "Just let me go, and there will be no need to fight. I don't want to fight you," Dean told him, holding his hands up, although keeping his machete tightly grasped. Dean looked the male tribute up and down, not really remember him. He was slightly smaller and leaner than Dean and looked a similar age, and Dean noticed that the way he was holding his long, triple edged dagger that he was not used to fighting.

"Why should I believe you? How do I know that you won't come after me later?" The tribute replied.

Dean didn't respond, knowing no matter what he said the boy would not believe him. The boy lunged towards him, but Dean easily dodged. Several more amateur attacks were made towards Dean as they danced around the fire, all of which Dean evaded or blocked. Finally, the boy swung and Dean saw an opening. He swung for the boy and hit his mark, decapitating him, and the cannon went off instantly.

Dean stood there momentarily as the body hit the ground with a thud. Dean stared at the body for a second, not even phased this time at what he had done. His second kill, and yet this time there was no great remorse. That was the thing that shook Dean the most. This time he had killed, not even thinking twice about.

Bringing himself back out of his thoughts, he knelt down and grabbed the boy's dagger, strapping it into his belt, knowing that it might come in useful sometime. Doing a surveillance glance around the clearing to make sure that the fire had not attracted anybody else yet, he got up and started a light jog to his base to collect his things before continuing onto somewhere else.

* * *

As Dean settled doing into his new alcove, eating some more of the gifts he received just half an hour earlier, he heard the anthem play. Turning his gaze up to the sky, he saw the face of the boy he had killed, who was from District Six. After a moment, it was replaced by a girl who was from District Eleven, who had been killed only an hour ago, Dean assumed, by the sound of the cannon. As soon as the seal of Panem disappeared from the sky, Dean huddled back down onto the floor and settled himself down to sleep.


	9. Third, Fourth and Fifth Day

**A/N- Sup! Thank you all once again for the reviews, follows and favourites. I would really appreiate it if you kept them coming :)**

 **Disclaimer- I solemly swear that I do not own anything.**

The following two days were uneventful for Dean. Only the girl from Twelve died on the third day, and on the fourth day of the games, nobody died. Dean could sense something big was going to happen, although he wasn't sure what. Due to the lack of deaths so far, he was sure that the Gamemakers were going to intervene and 'spice things up'. They always did when things got to 'boring' for the precious Capitol citizens.

Dean continued to be surprised by the reliant stream of gifts he received from his sponsors. If he needed something, instantly he received it. Despite this, Dean never became complacent, knowing that the gifts could stop any minute, so continued to look food and water, to which he had not been successful so far. He suspected that the only source of water was the lake behind him at the Cornucopia.

Having collected his things, he started his trek around the arena, searching for a food and water once again, having nothing better to do at this point in time as he had finished four nets already. He had also decided not to go hunting people until the final eight, allowing them to fight amongst themselves and become injured, whereas he would be strong and healthier, if all went to plan at least.

It wasn't until the mid-day sun had come across the arena, that Dean heard a disturbance. Dean stopped dead, drawing out the District Six boy's dagger, and waited for any sign of further movement. After a few moments, there was no further noise, so Dean stealthily walked towards it.

Dean pulled back the vines, but noticed nobody there, and relaxed slightly. He continued to walk in that direction when he noticed a mound something on the floor. Curiosity overcoming him, he walked over to the mound bending down to try to decipher what it was. The pile was creamy colored, with red blood streaks in it. Dean cautiously touched it with his dagger, hand covering his mouth, and found it gooey in nature. Dean let it fall immediately, feeling positively repulsed by the mound, but had no idea what it was from. He had never heard of any creature leaving this before.

Dean jumped when he heard a blood-curdling scream shortly followed by the boom of the cannon, the noises too close to him for comfort. Securing his possessions on his back Dean took off in the opposite direction, not wanting to come into contact with whatever has just killed a tribute.

After a few minutes of running, when Dean felt he was safely away, Dean stopped to regain his breath, doubled over. Dean's head bolted up as he heard the rustling again, and he quickly turned around towards the source of the sound. Readying his weapon to fight, Dean took on his fighting stance and prepared for a fight.

Emerging from the trees, a human figure came out, wielding a weapon. Dean poised himself for attack but then confusion and shock swept over his face, causing himself to come to a standstill. The person he was staring at was himself. He was staring at himself. _Capitol mutt,_ Dean reminded himself.

Regaining his composure as other Dean stalked towards him, Dean settled himself back into his fighting stance.

"Well aren't you a handsome devil?" Dean said with a smirk. The mutt just smirked back in response.

"You always were the one for smart remarks. Trying to compensate?" The mutt asked.

"You know I don't have any trouble down there" Dean replied. "Anyway, you know this won't put me off killing you" Dean informed the creature, pointing up and down at the creature with his dagger. The creature smiled once again, and took a step closer to Dean, brandishing its own sword. Dean lunged towards it but was quickly deflected by the creature. The pair were equally matched as they fought against each other. Neither of them were gaining the upper hand, and Dean could see it in the mutt's eyes that it was becoming frustrated. That was until the mutt managed to rip half his supplies from him, his water, food nets, and one of his knives, and took off running deeper into the jungle.

Dean hesitated for a second, debating whether it was worth following the creature, but then took off after it, knowing that he would likely die without those vital supplies, as he still wasn't sure on the reliability of the gifts he received. He sprinted after the mutt, but the trail was starting to become cold, the mutt was out running him. Just as he was about to give up, he noticed a pile of goo again and ran into a small clearing.

Leant against the tree, twirling Dean's knife, and the rest of Dean's possessions scattered around him, stood Sam.

"Sammy?" Dean asked, perplexed. "What the hell are you doing here?!" He questioned. How did he defeat the mutt? How did he even get in? Sam was too young to be in here. Anyway, he was the only male tribute for District Four, nobody else could be let into the games. Sam just rolled his eyes, looking bored. Once the initial shock of seeing his baby brother here wore off, Dean's head cleared and he realized it was the mutt in Sam's form. "How did you do that?" Dean questioned the mutt.

The mutt shrugged, but Dean felt a roll of queasiness come over him as realization hit. "That lump of goo, is that from you shedding your skin?" He had overheard his father talk about a mutt like this once. He had called it a shape-shifter. However, the Capitol had found them unruly, and Dean had assumed that they had got rid of them all. Obviously, he was wrong.

The shapeshifter chuckled. "You are cleverer than everybody gives you credit for."

Dean narrowed his eyes at the shapeshifter as it sighed and walked towards him. Once again the sparring started, except this time, Dean acted only defensively, merely blocking the blows and ignoring the attacking opportunities the shape-shifter left. He couldn't push the thought out of his mind that he was fighting his baby brother, not the Capitol mutt he was actually fighting. Of course, fighting like this got him nowhere. He was growing tired and the shapeshifter was gaining even more of an advantage on him.

 _It's not Sammy_ , Dean reminded himself, as he tried to fight back. Dean wheezed as the shapeshifter kicked him in the stomach, winding him. The shapeshifter knocked Dean to the floor, cutting Dean on his arm. Seconds later, Dean just rolled out the way in time to dodge a knife to the heart.

 _It's a mutt!_ Dean yelled to himself, _the real Sammy will be in trouble if you die in here, if you let the Capitol win_. Finally, Dean managed to gain the courage to fight back, kicking the shifter away from him as he stood up. New found strength over the anger in stomach that the Capitol had mimicked his brother spurred him on. The mutt had become complacent with Dean's lack of fight previously, so it was mere moments before Dean gained the upper hand once again and used a killing blow to the heart.

The shapeshifter stumbled back, shock apparent on its face, and collapsed onto its back. Dean wiped the back of his hand across his face, trying to wipe off the blood from the shapeshifter. The shapeshifter didn't look inhuman as it led dead on the floor, and Dean could only see it as his brother, dead. What if in a few years his brother is selected for the games? Would he see the real life image of this?

Dean shook himself. He knew he couldn't think like that. If he could survive this, then Sam could be safe. Dean collected his possessions before grabbing the dagger from the mutt's heart, wiping the blood off on the mutt's clothing. Without a second glance back, he walked away, knowing that he should start to look for a new place to stay for the night.


	10. The Eighth Day

**A/N- Sup! Thank you for continuing to read my story. Thank you for the reviews, follows and favourites, when I get the email through saying someone has commented, followed or favourited the story, it honestly makes my day. Please could be kind enough to leave a review after this chapter?**

 **Disclaimer- And it is admitted with great sadness, I do not own either of the franchises**

Dean counted in his head who remained in the games. Both tributes from One and Two, himself and Kai from Four, Zachariah from Seven, Balthazar from Eight, the girl from Nine, both tributes from Ten, and the male tribute from Eleven. The boy from five had died from the shapeshifter mutt attack three days ago, and the girl from Seven had died yesterday. In fact, in the Capitol's eyes, the games must seem boring so far. Except for the whole fiasco with the rats on the sixth day, causing to Dean despised all rats with a particular distaste after seeing what they did to the poor girl, not much violence has happened. There was still a lot of tributes left. He would wait a little longer for them to kill each other before he made his move. However, that didn't mean he hadn't been busy. He had been carefully acquiring the weapons of others, allowing him to gain an advantage when the time comes.

Dean had now found the perfect hiding spot. There was a small gap that was difficult to spot, especially since Dean had hidden it well with undergrowth and vines. There was even a log in which he could hide his possessions that he didn't want to have to lug around the whole time as he hunted. And it was the perfect place that allowed him to make a quick getaway if needed.

For days he had not been disturbed, except for the occasional animal, which he killed for extra food. Dawn had barely broken, however, when he heard a faint rustle in the leaves, about hundred meters away from him. Dean jumped up and readied his knife as he heard the rustle the leaves come closer to him. He took a breath as silence surrounded him.

"Hello, Dean," the voice said, causing Dean to still, before growling in frustration.

"Balthazar," Dean grudgingly acknowledged, turning to face him. Balthazar smiled before going over to the log where Dean hid all his things and started rummaging through. "Hey!" Dean said, walking over to him drawing his dagger, annoyed that Balthazar was going through his things. "I said 'hey'!" Dean repeated when Balthazar didn't stop.

Balthazar stood up, brandishing a knife, causing Dean to get into a defensive position. Spotting the knife, Balthazar quickly kicked it out of Dean's hand, letting it lodge into the spongey ground. "You did. Twice. Good for you," Balthazar said, patting Dean on the arm in mock congratulations.

"How did you know I was here?" Dean replied, glaring at the boy, and picked up his knife again off the floor.

"Oh, Dean. I've always known where you are. Never wanted you to sneak up on me. Looking at your arsenal, I was right. It doesn't look like you've had a hungry day in here either," Balthazar said, marveling at Dean's collection of weapons and food. "I need to borrow this," Balthazar told him, waving Dean the knife he had taken. It was the long, silver, triple edged dagger that Dean had acquired off the District Six tribute he killed on the second day. "Mine has been misplaced," Balthazar informed him.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked, narrowing his eyes,

"Raphael," Balthazar stated and took a glance around.

"He's after you?" Dean questioned.

"No, we are going on date," Balthazar replied sarcastically. "What else would I mean you imbecile? It seems that I am going to be his next kill victim. Actually, I'm rather flattered, him thinking that I'm one of the most dangerous competitors left. Anyway, can't stop, he's coming. I had a five-minute head start, and it looks like my time is almost up," Balthazar told him, hearing rustling in the distance. "You should probably run too," Balthazar added before disappearing into the trees.

"You freaking idiot!" Dean hissed at him, before darting in the opposite direction. Dean ran through the jungle, dodging vines and logs, only stopping when he was half a mile away. "Damn it," Dean swore to himself, remembering all his food, water, and weaponry collection was lost. Well, except for his knife, but he didn't know how useful that would be against people who were stronger and bigger than him. His father had always told him to go in smart or don't go in at all, and one little knife was not smart.

 _I'll go back later_ , Dean told himself. He would hide out here for a while before heading back. Raphael and the rest of the careers would be gone by then. Dean sighed, and sat down on the floor, trying to judge the right amount of time before he should he back.

Dean noticed a flicker of silver out of the corner of his eye and quickly ran over to the parachute. He stared in disbelief when he saw what it was carrying. A trident. This was a rare gift, in fact, he could guess this was the most expensive gift ever given out in the games. Especially as it was so late in the games, most tributes don't even receive food this late.

Dean quickly unraveled his trident from the parachute, testing its balance, grip, weight. He couldn't think why Bobby had sent him this. Sure, this was his best weapon, but he wasn't completely useless with the weapons he had. It wouldn't be that hard to fight the careers with those weapons.

There was a faint rustling of leaves and branches cracking, and all the animals had gone silent. The footsteps were getting closer, and the voices were getting louder. Dean listened closely, trying to figure out how many were coming. From the sound of the footsteps, he guessed there were only two.

"He could be long gone by now," A female voice rang out across the jungle.

"Trust my tracking," The male voice responded. "Somebody has run down here recently."

 _Raphael, crap,_ Dean thought to himself. Bobby had prepared Dean for a fight that was minutes away. Dean glanced around, trying to think where to hide to gain the element of surprise when Raphael's voice stopped him.

"Dean. Not the boy I was hoping to see, but I guess I needed to get round to killing you anyway," Raphael said simply, holding out a long silver dagger, the same as Balthazar had taken only half an hour earlier.

Dean sniggered. "Yeah, well, I guess I should be flattered that you think of me as such a high priority," Dean replied back, readying his trident. He recognized the female as Amelia from District Two.

"You are no more than a helpless maggot," Raphael replied. "It is sheer luck that you have made it so far. I mean, how many people have you killed?"

Dean shook his head in disbelief. He couldn't understand how children can take pride in who they kill. Well, if he killed the Careers, he'd be a bit proud then, but only because they are massive dicks.

"Come on then, kill me," Dean goaded him, reaching around his back. "I mean, how hard can it be?" he taunted.

The two careers stepped forward, and Dean grabbed the knife from his belt and threw it into Amelia's chest. The girl cried, and quickly fell to her knees, blood coming up from her mouth.

However, Raphael didn't stop for a second to morn his district partner and jabbed his blade at Dean. Dean dodged it skilfully, and counter-attacked with his trident, which Raphael dodged easily. Dean attacked again, managing to clip Raphael's shoulder and causing it to bleed. With a kick, Dean was forced to the floor. Neither of them heard the cannon for Amelia go off. Raphael struck at Dean, missing him as he blocked it with his trident. Raphael struck again, and Dean barely rolled out of the way in time, barely getting back onto his feet before the third strike came. Dean dodged it once again, before delivering a kick to the eighteen-year-olds face, stunning him slightly. Dean delivered a punch to the stomach before delivering a killing blow with his trident to Raphael's chest.

The cannon went off before Raphael fell to the ground. Dean doubled over, out of breath with the amount of exertion he had put into the fight, before pulling out his trident from Raphael's chest a few minutes later. He quickly retrieved his knife from the girl, after making sure she had no pulse, before running back to his base.

Dean froze when he heard voices, all still at his base. _Careers, damn it._ He held his breath for a moment to see whether they heard him, but luck was on his side. They were too caught up in their argument. He slowly peered around the tree to see what they were doing, and grumbled to himself when he saw that they had found his stash. _Damn it, Balthazar_ , Dean mentally cursed, annoyed that he had lost his possessions from Balthazar rummaging through them.

"They should be back by now," Alastair informed the trio.

"Do you think somebody killed them?" Kai asked.

"No, they just ran out of the arena," Lilith replied sarcastically. "We heard two cannons and they aren't here, it's not hard to work out. It means too less people we have to deal with. They were scrum anyway." The female continued. "You know, I think there's only ten of us left now" Lilith informed them.

"We can take that down to nine" Alastair suggested. Dean held his breath, thinking that they had noticed him, but then he noticed a small smile on Alastair's lips as he and Lilith both turned to Kai.

"How do you mean?" Kai asked nervously, stepping back slightly.

"You're proving to be not of much use. We had high hopes for you, but you have been useless," Lilith told her. "And I want to have some fun."

"It isn't like you are going to win, we might as well put you out of your misery," Alastair told her, stepping towards her.

"Wait! No! I can help you find the Winchester kid!" Kai replied, backing away. Her foot got caught on a loose vine and she tumbled onto the floor, landing on her back.

"He's no threat, just a boy who has got lucky so far." Alastair told her, before removing a knife from his belt.

"No! Please!" Kai begged to him.

"Don't scream. Screaming makes me mad," Lilith said to her with a sadistic smile on her face.

Dean couldn't watch as Lilith and Alastair inhumanely killed Kai. He covered his ears to try and block out her screams, but he could still hear them. Finally, the cannon went off, and after a few minutes Dean removed himself from the crouching position he hadn't realised he had gotten into. He took a glance to make sure that the two remaining Careers had gone, before walking over to Kai's body.

He had never liked Kai, and he still didn't, but he didn't want her to die like this. It was surprising hard to see your District partner die, even if you didn't get along. Dean gulped as he saw her body, lifeless and broken, eyes open in fear. Dean bent down, closing her eyes, before grabbing what was left of his possessions, only a bottle of water and his nets, before jogging away in the opposite direction of the careers.

As Dean slowed down to a walk, he noticed the cornucopia was in his view, he coming to very edge of the jungle. Knowing that he had now gotten far enough from the duo from One, Dean perched himself on a fallen tree and took this time to consider what he should do next.

Dean now had his trident, one of his best weapons, and his knife. He also still had his net and water. There were now only nine tributes left, and Dean was sure he could put his original plan into action, trapping the tributes in a net.

Dean considered where to put the traps. He needed it in an area where the other tributes would likely go. _The lake?_ Dean considered. All the tributes needed water, and so far that was the only source. But it would be too exposed, everyone would see it. He would have to use the jungle, and draw people to the trap when they went for water.

Dean set up one of his nets on the floor, just within the jungle, and prepared the trap. It was a simple, but still effective trap. A tribute would walk, or run, over the net, knocking away the anchor stick, which caused a heavy log attached on the other end of the vine to fall, which pulled the net up into the air, leaving the tribute trapped. Dean had done this countless times before, back in Four, on animals, but he was sure the traps would still work for humans. All he had to do was get them there.

Concealing himself within the Cornucopia, Dean patiently awaited his first victim. He prayed that it wasn't Alastair or Lilith, or anyone who enjoyed confrontation, knowing that they would stay and fight rather than flee him. But luck was on his side for once as, after a few hours of waiting, a female tribute headed towards the lake, keeping one eye over her shoulder as she refilled her water.

Dean, kept quiet as he made his way to the lake, getting into the correct angle so she would flee in the direction of the net. Once she was in that direction, she would have no choice but to fall into his trap, as Dean had laid the path with blockages that would prevent a tribute going that way if they just trying to flee as fast as possible.

Dean started sprinting towards her as loudly as possible, brandishing his trident, causing her to jump up and flee and head towards the jungle. The girl the was fast, perhaps fast enough to out sprint Dean, but seconds after she entered the jungle, she was whipped up by Dean's net.

The girl screamed in terror, causing Dean to fill guilt at what he was about to do, but he knew that this was the only way that he would be able to see Sammy again. The girl tried to back away from him in terror, but entangled by the net, it was no use. Dean thrusted his trident into to her, and he eyes widened, before slumping, causing the cannon to boom. Cutting the tribute down, Dean laid her on her back, collected her minimal possessions and his net, before fleeing to allow the hovercraft to collect the body.


	11. The Ninth Day

**A/N- Good day to you. I hopw you enjoy this chapter. Pretty please, with a cherry on top, could you leave a review at the end? Thank you!**

 **Disclaimer- Nope, still don't own anything.**

 _Seven left_ , Dean told himself, as he climbed down from the tree he had slept in. Dean had slept longer than he usually would, but he had spent much of the night setting up the majority of his traps.

After finishing half of the food that remained, not having any more gifts from sponsors since his trident, Dean set off to check his traps. On the way to his third trap, he noticed fresh tracks of a tribute. He quietly followed them, quickly finding a boy with his back to him, putting out the remains of a small fire. The boy quickly turned when he heard Dean, but it was too late. Dean threw the net he carried over the boy, causing the boy to fall and become entangled. With little hesitation, Dean speared the boy and seconds later the cannon went off. He quickly removed the net and walked away, not taking a second look at the boy.

He had almost reached his third trap, when he heard the unmistakable voices of Alastair and Lilith, calling his name.

"Dean?" Alastair drawled, his voice causing shivers to run down his back. "We know you're here." Dean held his breath, praying that they wouldn't see or hear him.

"It's time to play, Dean," Lilith added. "Come on, let's have a little fun!" excitement clear in her voice.

Dean secured his trap as quietly as he could, before picking up his trident and creeping away from the ever nearing pair, being as light footed as he possibly could. However, the pair's ears were trained on any slight noise and heard him the moment he stepped on a crunchy leaf.

"Found you!" Lilith squealed with delight.

Dean sprinted away, holding his trident tight. Dean didn't dare to look back, knowing that it would just slow him down. The pounding of the feet from the devil's duo spurred him on faster. The chase went on for miles, all three as fit as each other, although Dean was slightly faster, but not fast enough to be able to gain a rest break or to lose them, due to the supreme tracking skills of the career pair.

Dean broke though the edge of the tree line, back to the grassy plane of the Cornucopia. _Fuck_ , Dean thought to himself. He had just allowed himself to have no decent hiding place. Seconds later, Lilith and Alastair broke through the tree line.

"Well, well, well. Look who we caught," Alastair said, a menacing smile on his face.

"Alastair," Dean acknowledge, gulping, and readjusted his grip of his trident.

"You killed two of our friends," Alistair told him, stepping towards him, as Lilith started to edge around. His voice was calm and patient, which made it even more eerie for Dean. Both Lilith and Alastair seemed to be psychopaths, although many were if they volunteered for the games.

"You would have stabbed them in the back anyway," Dean reminded him.

Alistair shrugged. "I feel a little vengeance is in order" he replied, nodding to Lilith. "Don't worry Dean, I'm going to kill you nice and slow" he informed him, edging close enough to be within Dean's trident reach. Dean struck out with his trident, but Alistair dodged out of the way, having as quick reflexes as Dean. Dean quickly punched Lilith in the nose, breaking it, as she tried to creep up on him. Dean fought against the pair for a while, in what seemed like a series of masterful moves by both parties. Dean only slowed when his token was ripped off him as Lilith grabbed him from behind, glancing around for the necklace. It was enough time, however, for the pair to tackle him to the ground, Lilith holding down his shoulders, as Alastair sat on top of his stomach. "You know, if I'm slow enough, I could show you your own beating heart," Alistair told him as he grabbed his knife.

Dean eyes widened in alarm, and he began to struggle, but it was no use as Alastair cut through his clothes and cut a shallow wound across his chest. Dean gritted his teeth, only letting a small groan leave his mouth, not wanting the pair to gain any satisfaction from it. But Alastair grinned as he sliced Dean's chest open again, deeper this time, and Dean let out a grunt of pain.

"We can have all the fun in the world, Dean," Alastair murmured to him, carving strategically into Dean's chest, Dean now unable to bear it as he cried out in pain, shutting squeezing his eyes tightly shut, hearing Lilith laugh maniacally.

Moments later, the weight on his stomach was lifted, and he heard two grunts as the bodies hit the ground beside him. Flinging his eyes open, Dean turned his head to where the new commotion was going on, Lilith now letting go of him to do the same, before standing up and running over to the fighting pair to help her district partner.

"Are you just going to lie there all day, Dean?" The tribute fighting the pair asked, which Dean recognized as Balthazar, managing to get back onto his feet from Alastair and turned to face Lilith, before elbowing her in the face. Grunting slightly as he got up, Dean grabbed his trident, which had been knocked out of hands during the first battle.

Seeing Alastair getting back onto his feet, Dean lunged at him, his trident leaving a large, deep cut across his face. However, Alastair countered, throwing a hard punch to Dean's face, causing Dean to fall back down to the floor. Dean let go of his trident when his hand was stomped on. Alastair then grabbed Dean by the collar of his shirt, and pounded his face repeatedly with his fist. Dean slumped to the ground, barely holding onto consciousness, as Alastair leant over and held his hand over his throat, suffocating him.

A cannon boomed, causing Dean to make a strained glance with the last of his energy over to where Balthazar and Lilith were fighting a few meters away. The image was starting to become blurry, but he saw Lilith led on the ground, Balthazar's dagger in her heart. Having also looked over when the cannon sounded, Alastair quickly got up and sprinted over to Balthazar, believing Dean to be incapacitated enough that he was no longer a threat.

Dean gasped for air, coughing and spluttering as he tried to get up. Getting to his feet, doing everything in his power not to cry out in pain, he picked up his trident and stumbled over to where Balthazar and Alastair were struggling against each other.

Alastair's knife ripped across Balthazar's stomach, causing Balthazar to give an audible gasp as he clutched his stomach and tumbled to the ground. The fight had distracted Alastair, so he didn't have time to react as Dean stabbed him in the back with his trident. The cannon sounded instantly, and Dean shoved Alastair away as he fell.

Dean rushed over to Balthazar, kneeling down next to him, propping his head up with his knee as Balthazar struggled to breathe. Dean glanced at the wound on Balthazar's stomach, he knew nobody would ever survive a wound like that. Even so, Dean took off his shirt, showing his own fresh cuts across his chest, and put it on the wound holding it down with as much pressure as he could, trying to stop the blood flow.

"What will your sponsors think of you, now that your pretty face is all mashed up?" Balthazar joked, giving a sharp intake of breath in pain from his small chuckle. "I bet you're worried about you pretty face being all scared."

Dean only rolled his eyes, not bothering to retort. Despite what many people thought, he didn't care about his looks. "Why did you help me?"

"You can thank Castiel for that" Balthazar told him, groaning as he moved slightly.

"Who's Castiel?" Dean questioned, confused why someone he had never met before wanted him alive and managed to convince Balthazar to keep him so.

"My damn mentor," Balthazar growled. "Knew I shouldn't have listened to the fool, but he knows how to make me come around to his foolish ideas."

"Your mentor?" Dean questioned, even more confused. Mentors were supposed to keep their own tributes alive, not anybody else's. "Why does he want me alive?"

Balthazar motioned subtlety for Dean to move closer, and Dean did so. "The rebellion," Balthazar whispered, barely audible for Dean. Dean jerked his head back, but kept his face passive. Seconds later, the cannon boomed, Balthazar going limp against him. Dean placed Balthazar's head onto the floor, and was about to leave the open space when he remembered that his necklace was missing from around his neck.

Panicked, Dean glanced around looking for his token. The necklace was like having a part of his brother in the arena, it reminded him why he had to keep going and acted as a comfort to him. After a few minutes, Dean became frustrated, as still had not yet found the necklace within the grass. He was about to give up hope when he saw it glinting in the sun light. Dean smiled in relief as he picked it up, retying it around his neck as he returned to the forest.


	12. The Tenth Day

**A/N- Why hello! Thank you for continuing to read my story! and thank you for the lovely reviews left, they make my day. Also, than you for following the story and favouriting it. Before the sxtory commences, I would just like to ask you to leave a review. Tell me what you think of the chapter. in the words of relationship therapists, communication is key :P**

 **Disclaimer- yeah... don't own anything.**

 _Two left to go_ , Dean reminded to himself as he repaired his next, in which one of the tributes had died in the early hours of the morning. He was now hunting the others down, throwing the net over them causing them to be entangled, making it easier to him to spear them. It was the middle of the tenth day, and so far, he had come across no-one else or caught anyone in his three remaining traps. Despite his wounds on his chest from yesterday hurting him with every breath he took, Dean continued a steady pace to each trap, knowing that the games were almost over.

It was late afternoon, on Dean's third round of checking his traps, when he saw tribute contained in one. Dean readied his trident and walked over to tribute.

"No, please! Don't!" She screamed as she saw him getting nearer, desperately trying to get out of the net. The girl looked around the same age as him, but was smaller and much slighter than him. The fresh scars on her face, the state of her leg, broken and infected, and her malnourished look she had showed that the games had not been as kind to her as they had been for Dean.

"I'm sorry," Dean told her, raising his trident.

"Please! I want to see my family again!" She begged, tears in her eyes. He noticed that her eye still looked full of innocence. He doubted that she had even killed anyone throughout the entire games.

She locked eyes with Dean as he stabbed her in the heart, eyes full of accusation, killing her almost instantly. "I'm so sorry," he mumbled to her once again, before shutting her youthful eyes so it was as if she was sleeping. Letting her down, her set her safely on the floor, like he had the other tributes he had killed, and left her for the hovercraft to collect.

Knowing that he was going to have to draw the other tribute to him, Dean started collect firewood, and positioned it by one of his traps. He needn't have bothered, as the other tribute had sneaked up behind him, clearing his throat.

"Hello, Dean," The tribute said, causing Dean to spin around to face them.

"Zachariah, right?" Dean acknowledged, picking up his trident. Zachariah smiled, dropping his dagger into his hands that he had concealed in his sleeve. Dean almost rolled his eyes. _Was this sword this year's fashion accessory?_ Dean thought sarcastically.

Zachariah stood with an air of arrogance around him, a smug look on his face as he eyed Dean's wounds on his chest, laboured breathing, the eye swollen shut and cuts littered about on his face. "Looks like you're not in the best of shape," he commented, to which Dean merely shrugged. "You know, I was quite impressed with your method of killing, Dean," Zachariah complemented, pointing to the net on the ground. "You weren't as stupid as most of your cockroach careers. All the career tributes think about is brute strength. But you weren't completely like them. I suppose that's why you didn't join them," Zachariah told him taking a few steps forward as he talked.

Dean rolled his eyes, having enough of Zachariah's monotone talking. "Just shut it with the psychoanalysis, would you?" Dean retorted.

Zachariah gave him a smug grin before he lunged him. The pair fought against each other, Zachariah using his weight against Dean, but he lacked the same amount of skill. Dean quickly used Zachariah's over confidence to advantage, letting him believe he was winning the fight. Dean was thrown by Zachariah, but he skilfully rolled into his landing, cushioning the fall. Dean struggled up as Zachariah walked towards him, pretending to be even more injured and winded, allowing Zachariah close enough so he could attack. Just as Zachariah readied his sword to stab Dean, Dean stood up, threw the net he had tied to his back, entangling Zachariah. Swinging his trident upwards, Dean hit his mark, stabbing Zachariah in the head through his chin.

A few seconds later, the final cannon boomed, and Dean removed the trident from his face, allowing Zachariah fall to the ground. The trumpets blasted into the arena, and Claudius Templesmith's voice announced Dean's victory, followed by the roar of the Capitol citizens, before the ladder fell from the hovercraft and he was taken away from the arena.

* * *

Dean drifted in and out of consciousness for the next couple of days. He heard words of broken ribs, dehydration and infection during one of his short bouts of consciousness. When Dean had fully regained conscious, he noticed Bobby by his side.

"You did it, son," was all Bobby said, putting a reassuring hand on Dean's shoulder. Dean gave him a sad smile, glad that he hadn't said congratulations like every other person did to a victor. This wasn't something that Dean wanted to be praised for, but that wouldn't stop the citizens of the Capitol or many people from the district. In fact, Dean already wished that this whole event would be just forgotten, but he knew that that wish would never come true.

Dean was discharged from the hospital a few hours later, and was quickly whisked away by his stylist ready for his recap interview later that evening. Catching his reflection for the first time in the glass of the elevator as the travelled back to his floor, he realised how malnourished he really was, despite the regular gifts of food from Bobby.

"Don't worry, we'll fix you," The stylist told him with what Dean assumed to be a reassuring smile on her face, when she saw him staring at his reflection. Dean restrained himself from rolling his eyes, knowing that the stylist probably couldn't contemplate the fact that a victor might look malnourished after the **hunger** games.

After a carefully proportioned meal by the Capitol, trying to make sure that he wouldn't throw up the rich food, Dean was taken to his chambers where his prep team got him ready. After an hour of work on him, his stylist came in giving him his outfit.

She dressed him in a light weight white, v-neck shirt that was practically transparent, particularly under the lights he would be under later, and deep blue trousers.

"You know, it was a gamble when I designed this for you to wear when you came out of the games, with your chest all scarred and infected. But, they managed to fix that pretty well, you can barely see the scars. The cuts on your face have healed nicely too," she told him, giving him a condescending pat on the cheek, before leaving the room.

Dean glowered at her as she left the room, before Tessa greeted him and escorted him to the elevator. She made no attempt at conversation as they went down, which Dean was grateful for. Perhaps Tessa wasn't completely awful.

Dean sat as calm as possible as he waited for the interview to start. All he wanted was to go home, but he still had to get through today's and tomorrow's interview. A small smile appeared on his lips as he saw Bobby walk over to him.

"You ready?" Bobby asked him, pulling him into a hug.

"I guess." Dean told him, not telling him the truth, that all he wanted was to run as far away as possible from here.

"Just remember, you're being watched all the time you're up there. You'll always be on screen. So keep up your appearance. You still want them to like you."

"It's never gonna be over, is it?" Dean asked him. Bobby just gave him a sad smile and a pat on the shoulder, before leaving to get ready for the interview.

Dean took a deep breath as he heard the anthem play loudly and Caesar Flickerman's voice roar as his prep team were introduced onto the stage. Next he heard Tessa introduced, then the stylist, although Dean heard that her name was announced as Aurora, who was then followed by Bobby. He could hear the people cheering him, and Dean smiled. Bobby would be looking grumpy on stage as he normally did on the stage, not waving or cheering like the other mentors did.

Dean stood up and went over to the plate, as soon as his weight was on the plate, it began to rise. Dean was blinded by the lights as he rose up onto the stage, the crowd cheering his name. Dean smiled and waved where he guessed he crowd was, the lights beaming on him preventing him from seeing them. He walked over to Caesar, shaking his hand before sitting down in the armchair.

Caesar tried to wait patiently for the crowd to settle down, but after five minutes of the cheering, and no end in near sight, Caesar did his best to hush them. Eventually, the crowd settled, and everyone turned to the screen, ready to rewatch the hunger games.

Dean pretended to be relaxed in the arm chair, full of confidence, arrogance, as though the games haven't already left him nightmares that will no doubt haunt him for the rest of him life. The first half hour consisted of the reaping, chariot ride, training scores and the interview. The people who put the video together obviously wanted to make sure that everybody knew Dean was the victor, as there was minimal coverage on the other tributes. In fact, Dean's was the only interview that was seen all the way through.

But as soon as they were in the arena, they didn't hold back on the gore of the blood bath. They had the whole fight with Dean and the girl, before switching back to the other fights, making sure they could still see Dean run into the jungle. Dean tried to keep his face passive when he saw all the tributes being slaughtered, the goriest was by Alastair and Lilith. At least Raphael killed them quickly, even if he did look like he thought they were all beneath him.

After that, they flitted between Dean and the other tributes deaths and fights, but mainly on Dean. The audience cheered as the fight appeared between him and another boy on the second day. Dean put on a smug smile, nodding as he watched, covering up the disgust he felt for the Capitol as he still heard some of the audience calling out how much they loved him.

He heard the audience tear up slightly when the film came to the fight with himself and the mutt. Dean glanced down into his hands, not wanting them to catch his expression in camera. Even now, he couldn't bear watching himself kill his brother, even though it wasn't really him. He noticed how the montage focused on him after the fight, how shaken and upset he looked after. How heartbroken he looked. They even included him sleeping after, calling out his brother's name in distress. Dean could feel his cheeks redden.

But soon the montage returned to the killings. His interaction with Balthazar was replayed, the capitol laughing at the pair. The audience began to cheer when he started to fight Raphael and Amelia. Dean resumed his composure and put on his cocky expression.

The audience cheered when the fight with Alastair, Lilith and Balthazar started. " _Vultures"_ , Dean thought, doing all he could to not glare at the audience. Bigger cheers erupted when Alastair was killed, but the crowd hushed when Dean cared for Balthazar, although he got wolf whistles and cheers when he removed his shirt for Balthazar. Dean grinded his teeth together, but held his composure well.

Finally, they zoomed on his trap killings. The fight with Zachariah. And then the trumpets. The montage ended with the final shot of Dean standing straight, with his trident in his hand, victorious.

The anthem played once again and President Snow entered onto the stage, a young girl carrying the cushion with the crown onto the stage next to him. Snow took the crown off the cushion and placed it on Dean's head. Dean's stomach curled as the President smiled at him. Then the bows and waving started, before Caesar bided everyonegoodnight.

* * *

The next day, Dean went into the sitting area ready for his interview with Caesar.

"Ah Dean, restful night?" Caesar asked smiling.

Dean rubbed his eyes, having not had a full night's sleep since he went into the arena. "Yeah," replied, being polite. Caesar wasn't all bad, at least he tried to help, but he still condoned the games. That was something Dean would never be able to forgive him for.

Dean sat down on the chair, as relaxed as he could be as the director counted down the numbers to the interview. Bobby gave him a reassuring nod from behind the camera. Caesar did his regular beginning before smiling and turning to Dean.

"So, Dean, how are you feeling after the games?" He asked him.

"Well, I'm feeling just overwhelmed by the Capitol's support for me. I mean, when I first came here, I thought it was all magnificent. The buildings, the parks, the decorations. But now I know what is truly magnificent, the people here," Dean replied, smiling at the camera, lying through his teeth. He tried to pretend that he was talking a girl up.

"I'm glad you are enjoying the capitol so much," Caesar replied, a large smile on his face. "I have to say, I very much enjoy it too. Are you looking forward to seeing your family?"

Dean nodded his head. "Yeah. As much as I am enjoying it in the Capitol, I miss my family."

"I bet you do. I bet they can't wait to see you too, and they must be so proud. Especially your brother, Sam,"

"I hope so," Dean mumbled. He wasn't so sure. He couldn't stand the person he saw in the mirror anymore. How would Sam be able to look at him? The boy who always had such strong morals, stood up for what was right. How would be able to stay in the same room as a murderer?

From then on, Caesar went into a lengthy discussion with Dean about the different situations in the games. By the time Caesar signed off, Dean was mentally exhausted, having had to go over it all over again for the third time.


	13. Returning to Life

**A/N- Good evening! Hope you are well. Thank you for continuing to read this story! Please leave a review at the end, in the little box. It would be much appreciated.**

 **Disclaimer- I solemly swear the I own nothing.**

Dean put on a false smile as he stood before his district, waving at them as the newest victor. He couldn't get rid of the feeling in his gut from the games. The result from killing. He felt Bobby put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, but he didn't react to it. Inside he felt hollow.

"Dean!" He heard Sam shout at him, and Dean searched the crowd, looking for his brother's face. He wasn't too far back, but surrounded by many other people, including their father. He looked into his brother's eyes, somehow they had lost all their innocence, causing him to glance away in shame. How could he look at his brother when he knew he was the cause of his innocence lost? He didn't miss the hurt look in his brother's eye.

He made his way through the crowd, heading towards Sam and his father. He quickly embraced his brother into a hug. After a couple of moments, Dean pulled away and turned to his father, who put a hand on his shoulder, and looked into his eyes, just like he had on reaping day.

"You did good son," was all he said, smiling slightly. Dean nodded his head, smiling slightly too, only allowing a single tear to roll down his face.

 _"No, please! Don't!" She screamed, desperately trying to get out of the net._

 _"I'm sorry," Dean said to her, readying his trident._

 _"Please! I want to see my family again!" She begged._

 _Dean stabbed her in the heart, killing her almost instantly. "I'm so sorry," he mumbled to her, before shutting her eyes, as if she was sleeping._

"Dean, wake up!" Sam said, standing in the door way.

"What?" Dean replied, sitting up straight, and glanced around for danger, a knife still his hand. He saw Sam stood in the doorway, and realised it was just a dream. "I'm up," He grubbled, rubbing his eyes, and replacing the knife under his pillow, be could still feel Sam staring at him. "What?" He growled.

"Sleep well?" Sam asked sarcastically, arms folded.

"Yeah, just peachy," Dean replied, reaching over the side of the bed, where Sam couldn't see and took a gulp from a whiskey bottle, as hidden as he could. He finally, truly, understood why his dad had taken up drinking after their mom had died. It make you forget if you drink enough. "Tanned, rested and ready," Dean told Sam, quietly placing the bottle back under the bed. Moving to the new house hadn't helped, it was a constant reminder to Dean of what he had done.

"Dean, come on, man. You think I can't see it?"

"See what?" Dean asked, feigning ignorance

"The nightmares, the drinking. I'm with you practically twenty-four seven. I know something's going on."

"Shouldn't you be in school?" Dean grumbled, staring at the clock. It was nearly noon.

"It's Saturday. Something you would know if you spent less time looking at the bottom of the bottle."

"Sam, please," Dean replied, trying to let his baby brother drop the subject. Ever since his first night back, Sam had been asking how he was feeling and giving him concerned glances every minute. It had been two months now and Dean was fed up of it.

"If you just tell me how it was like, it'll make you feel better," Sam told him.

"Come on, can we stow the couples therapy, huh? I told you, I don't want to talk about it," Dean said, pushing past his brother, down the stairs to the kitchen. He had lost count of the number of times he had had this conversation with his brother. He heard Sam huff behind him as he went down the stairs, and he knew that Sam would now let it go until tomorrow.

Dean sat on a stool, slumping over the kitchen table. His head was pounding, and the smell of food was making his stomach churn.

"Want some breakfast?" Sam asked, walking into the kitchen.

"I'm good," Dean groaned, rubbing his head. He just wanted to be left alone for one moment, at least until a new bottle of booze could get rid of his hangover.

"You have to eat. You've barely eaten-"

"For fuck's sake Sam! Just leave me alone for one god damn minute!" Dean shouted, shoving his brother out of his way as he stormed out of the house, heading towards the beach.

* * *

Several hours later, Dean returned to the house. He had sat and drunk half his hidden stash of booze at the beach. He would have stayed longer, but the tide had come in and one of the Peacekeepers had forced him off the beach.

As he stumbled through the door, he walked straight into the looming figure of his father.

"Where have you been?" John asked him, glaring.

"Out." Dean replied sourly, trying to sober up quickly.

"I'm not liking your tone, boy." John growled.

"Sorry, sir. I was at the beach."

"Who was looking after you brother, whilst I was away?" John asked angrily. Dean knew that Sam wasn't old enough to be left alone all day.

Dean paled. "No one, sir."

"That's right. I came home to see an upset Sam, having no idea where you went. You know how anxious he gets."

"But-"

"I don't want to hear it. I know that you are struggling, believe me. But you need to snap out of it. What happens if I had been caught and the Peacekeepers had come here? Who would have protected him?" John asked angrily, although in a hushed tone. Even in their own house, they couldn't be guaranteed not to be overheard. John left frequently, helping to start a new rebellion. He could be gone from mere hours to days at a time.

"No one, sir."

"I can't look at you right now. Go take a shower, you smell like Brewer Jack's house." John ordered, referring to their alcohol supplier.

"Yes, sir," Dean quickly replied, darting up the stairs.

On the way to the bathroom, he passed Sam's room, where the door was open. Dean peeked inside, where he saw Sam sat reading a book. Dean stood in the doorway for a moment, unsure of whether he should enter.

"Just come in," Sam said with a sigh, not even looking up from his book. Dean wandered into the bedroom by around a meter, before rocking on his feet.

"Sam, I'm sorry," Dean said, causing Sam to put down his book. "I shouldn't have left you alone here and shouldn't have told you to fuck off."

Sam shrugged. "It's fine."

"So, we're good?"

"We're good," Sam confirmed, smiling.

"Awesome. Well, I'm gonna take a shower."

"Yeah, you kinda stink," Sam admitted, grinning.

Dean grabbed cushion off a chair and playfully threw it at him. "You don't smell like roses either," Dean grumbled jokingly as he left the room.


	14. The Presidential Visit

**A/N- Hey guys :) the penultimate chapter! Please leave a review after the chapter. Thank you in advance :)**

 **Disclaimer- Don't own nothing.**

Dean walked gloomily back into the house. He hated being in there when Sam was at school, it reminded him too much of his games, and it was getting worse now that the victory tour was a few short weeks away. Sam's mere presence made him forget, almost. But he couldn't sit on the beach any longer, the tide was starting to come in, meaning that he had to return to the damn house.

The moment Dean opened the door, his father was in front of him, startling Dean.

"Did you have a nice walk?" John asked him.

"Um, I guess," Dean replied, confused, and rubbed some of the sand out of his hair. His father never asked him how he spent his day. Not unless something was wrong. "The tide came in."

"Snow's here," John mumbled as he took his old leather hunting jacket, now Dean's, and placed it on the coat hanger.

"What? Why?" Dean mumbled back. Bobby didn't say that the President visited the victors five months later. He had already said his congratulations after the games. John shrugged in response, but Dean could tell he had slight panic in his eyes- something he rarely saw.

"He's in the study," John informed him, and Dean noticed the Peacekeepers guarding the door. Dean nodded his head, and walked over to the study door. He raised his hand to knock, but realised that it was his house that Snow had intruded and quickly dropped it, opening the door as indiscreetly as possible.

"Ah, Mr Winchester," Snow greeted him, seeing Dean walk into the room.

Dean glared at Snow for a second, who was sat behind the desk as if he owned it, before recovering his fake, arrogant composure that he had perfected over the years. "President Snow," Dean nodded at him.

"Please, take a seat," Snow said, indicating to the seat in front of the desk.

Dean heard the door shut close behind him, as he walked over to the seat, noticing that there was an overwhelming scent of roses as he came closer to Snow. "It's such an unexpected pleasure to see you again," Dean said, smiling.

Snow chuckled slightly. "Dean, please drop the façade. It is better if both of us are honest. That way, there are no surprises," Snow said to him. Dean shrugged and wiped the fake smile off his face, and sat expectantly. "I would like to congratulate you on winning the games," Snow told Dean "Quite an inspired technique, using a net to capture your opponents."

"You didn't come all this way to congratulate me," Dean told him bluntly.

"No. No I did not," Snow agreed. "I have more serious issues to discuss with you. Dean, as you already know, you are popular in the Capitol. You are considered, hansom, athletic. You are the most popular victor in the history of the hunger games. You are desirable," Snow informed Dean.

"I don't care what the people of the Capitol think of me," Dean said with a shrug. Snow had told him to be honest.

"But I do. And you will do well to keep this image," Snow told him, looking him up and down. Dean had lost weight, and it seemed permanent bags had appeared under his eyes from chronic lack of sleep. Dean shuffled in his seat uncomfortably, he didn't like the way Snow was looking at him. "Now, I came here to offer you a business deal."

"A business deal?" Dean replied, confused.

"Yes. You see, Dean, you are very beneficial to me, and I hope this deal will suit us both nicely. The people of the Capitol, influential, affluent citizens in particular, would like to get to know you more."

"I'm doing the victory tour in a couple of weeks," Dean replied, completely confused. They would get to know him more on the damn tour that made every victor see the families of those they killed in cold blood.

"These people would like to get to know you more one to one."

"So you want me to talk to them?"

"No. A more intimate relationship is what I had in mind," Snow told him. "Of course you would be paid for efforts. And you wouldn't be able to start until you are sixteen, no longer a child."

Dean stared at him blankly, trying to understand what the president meant. That's when the cogs fell into place. "You want me to prostitute myself?!" Dean shouted, standing up, outraged that the president would think he would do this for money. "There is no way in hell I am doing that!" Dean told Snow.

"I thought that you might say that, without listening to the whole deal," Snow replied. Dean glared at him, fuming, breathing heavily with anger. "Take your seat, and I will continue. I'm sure you will want to hear everything on the table before you make your final decision," Snow said, with a sadistic smile. Dean, unwillingly, obliged and resumed his seat.

"Have you heard of the victor, Haymitch Abernathy?" Snow asked Dean.

"Victor from Twelve. The alcoholic," Dean growled. Not that he could really talk, but he believed himself to more functional than Haymitch.

"That's correct. I suppose you were too young to see his games live, and we don't show him winning that often. Fortunately, I have a clip here." Snow told Dean, before a holographic screen came up in the middle of the desk and a young boy and girl were in the centre.

They were both fighting, the boy slashing the girl's eye out, but then is disarmed and hit in the stomach by the axe. Both of them were sustaining wounds that they couldn't survive if left for long. However, the boy ran through the hedges onto the edge of the cliff, all the time holding his intestines, and the girl followed him. She threw her axe at his head, which he dodged, and the axe went flying over the cliff edge. The girl continued to stand there, thinking she could outlast his injuries, but the axe returns, embedding itself in her head and killing her. The voice announced the boy, Haymitch, the victor.

Snow turned off the screen, a looked at Dean. "Haymitch made a fool out of the Capitol. He didn't play the games, he defied the Capitol, and in consequence he defied me. I don't like people defying me, Dean," Snow told him. "And when it rarely happens, there are serious consequences," Snow said, pausing for a moment to let the information sink in. "Unfortunately for Haymitch, after this act, his mother, younger brother, and girlfriend all died two weeks later in a terrible accident. A fire, I believe, wiping out the house they were in. Not uncommon with all that coal dust lying about," Snow told him, staring deep into his eyes, confirming that there was a personal meaning to Dean.

Dad. Sammy. They were in danger. They would be dead, and it would be his fault.

"So, Dean, do we have a deal?" Snow asked, knowing that Dean had understood his message. Dean nodded his head slightly, not trusting his voice. He felt dirty, agreeing to this, but his family's needs came before his own. It was the only way to keep his family safe. "Good," Snow said "There is one other thing I would like to discuss. I suspect you have heard the rumours of the rebellion starting to form. I'm sure I can trust you to stand with your country and not get involved with such acts. After all you have others to think about," Snow said with an evil smile.

"Of course," Dean said through gritted teeth.

"Now this you would not have realised, you would never get information from the other districts, but you have seemed to spark the interest in some of the citizens in them. They believe that you have characteristics need to help them overpower the Capitol. As you know, 4 has been particularly unruly recently, but so have 5 and 8. We do not want our peaceful system destroyed by foolish thoughts do we now?" Snow asked him.

Dean shook his head. Snow smiled triumphantly and began to stand, but Dean stopped him. "Wait, I have a condition to all of this," Dean told him, remembering one more thing that Dean had heard rumoured and he couldn't leave that rumour to chance. Snow sat down, an almost amused look on his face, and looked at him expectantly. "Sam never gets chosen for the games. His name never comes out of that reaping ball. The odds will be in his favour."

Snow allowed a small smile to play on his lips. "Well, you have thought of everything," Snow replied. "Of course, I'm sure your brother's odds will be good. But just remember, Dean, if you go against me, his luck might just change, and maybe not even his fighting skills will save him against the arena," Snow smiled again, before standing up and heading over to the door. "It's a shame I didn't get to meet your brother. Perhaps some other time, should I ever need to return," Snow told Dean, before leaving the study.

* * *

"Dad said Snow came to visit you today," Sam said, sitting himself down next to Dean on the sand, hidden from sight. It was Dean's hiding place, and Sam had known where Dean would go if something was wrong. He knew his brother too well. "What happened?"

"He just came to congratulate me," Dean lied, staring at the waves that were hitting the rocks from around the corner.

"I know you're lying to me, Dean," Sam said sighing. "I'm not as stupid as you think I am."

Dean turned to Sam, who was staring at him with a knowing look. Dean had always thought Sam was too smart for his own good. He always had the maturity and intelligence of someone twice his age. "I've never thought you were stupid, Sammy," Dean told him.

"Then why won't you tell me?"

"Trust me, you don't want to know," Dean told him.

"Then why am I asking?" Sam replied. "You always do this, bottle things up. But you can't keep doing that, Dean, it will destroy you. The games, mom's death, and now Snow." Sam told him. Dean turned his gaze out to sea once again, as though he was trying to ignore Sam. "Fine," Sam huffed, "Have it your way," he told Dean, starting to get to his feet.

"Snow wanted to make me a business deal," Dean muttered, loud enough for Sam to catch it.

"A deal?" Sam replied, not sure he had heard Dean correctly. Dean nodded his head, leaving Sam even more confused. Who would want to go into business with a fourteen-year-old? "What kind of deal?" Sam asked, sitting back down.

"He wants me to spend time with some people of the Capitol. People with money, who have influence."

"What? Talking? Parties? That doesn't seem too bad. I mean I know you said they were annoying, but surely you could-" Sam said, but Dean shook his head, cutting Sam off.

"He wants me to have a more intimate relationship," Dean said. He knew Sam had understood instantly.

"He wants you to prostitute yourself?!" Sam replied. "You can't. He can't make you!" Sam said

"He can, Sammy. He's playing me like a fiddle."

"What is he holding over you?" Sam asked quietly.

"What makes you think that?" Dean replied, getting defensive.

"I know you. There would be no way in hell that you would do this willingly without a real reason. I mean you would rather die than do this. The only way you would do something like this is if he threatened me or Dad," Sam said, before realizing that was what exactly what happened. "What did he say he would do to us?" Sam mumbled, staring at Dean.

"He said that he would kill you Sammy. You and Dad. Not in those exact words, but that's what he meant."

The pair sat in silence for a moment, taking in the situation. After what felt like an eternity, Sam finally spoke.

"Dad and me, we can look after ourselves. You don't need to do this," Sam told Dean.

Dean scoffed. "You know that's a lie." Dean told him mater of factly, and Sam hung his head. "This is the only thing I can do to keep you safe."

"But it's not your job to keep us safe," Sam argued.

"I've looked after you since you were six months old. It'll always be my job to look after you. It's the only thing I know how to do. Look after my pain in the ass baby brother." Dean added with a small smile. He saw Sam open his mouth to argue back, but Dean held up his hand. "I'm done discussing this, Sam. Can we end this sappy chat and get on with it now?"

Sam saw the exhaustion in his brother's face. "Sure," Sam agreed, although in his head he made a mental note to find a way to get Dean out of this somehow.

"Good. Now, just relax and don't touch my booze," Dean warned, lying back in the sand, grabbing his second bottle of the day.


	15. The Victory Tour

**A/N- Alas, the final chapter. I hope you've enjoyed and thank you for staying with me until the end. I would like to thank ChocolateSauce18, Leana Nas and SuperWhoLock50 for reviewing this story. You're comments have been deeply appreciated and have made my day. I was thinking about doing a sequel, so if you are interested, let me know in a review.**

 **Disclaimer- I hate to say this, but I don't own the two franchises.**

A few weeks later, Dean reluctantly left behind his family and boarded the train to head to District Twelve.

"Listen, son, you be back before you know it," Bobby reassured him. Dean didn't respond as he walked through the train, straight to his room. Being away from his family, where he couldn't watch them and protect them, made him feel uneasy, which was really an understatement. He didn't want to see anyone at this moment.

After a few hours of wallowing in his room, Dean joined Bobby and Tessa in the dining carriage, sitting down as food was going to be served.

"Dean, this is for you," Tessa told him, handing him several cards. Dean stared at her confused as he accepted them. "It's your speech. You can write something to add onto if you want, but those are so you don't have to worry about anything," Tessa told him.

Dean placed them down onto the table, ignoring them for the rest of the night as he ate his dinner. He had forgotten about the speeches. He was expected to stand up in front of the families of those he killed and thank them and talk about how great Panem is. It was a freaking joke.

* * *

The next day, the train pulled into District 12 and Dean unboarded it onto the platform, the citizens of district 12 unwillingly there to greet him. Dean smiled and waved at them as he was bundled into the car awaiting for him, taking him to the justice building.

The day dragged on as he read his speech and then got ready for the party with the mayor.

"Dean, I know this is hard, but you're gonna have to pretend to be happier to be here, to be a victor," Bobby murmured to him as they sat down at the table for the meal with the mayor. Dean rolled his eyes, but sat up from his slouched position, putting a fake smile on his face, and reached for the alcohol that had been placed opposite him. Bobby quickly swiped it away from him, putting it far out of his reach. "And no alcohol tonight," Bobby told him. Dean gave him a confused look, hiding his anger and disappointment. Alcohol was probably the thing that would get him through this night. "Sam warned me about your drinking habits, and it's not like I was born yesterday. You're going t-total for the duration of this trip. Alcohol isn't the answer. I would know."

"Haymitch seems to disagree," Dean bit back, nodding over to where Haymitch sat, drunk as a skunk, laughing at the mayor's poor attempt at a joke.

"Don't keep Haymitch as your role model. That man isn't exactly a favourite of Snow's," Bobby replied. "Anyway, you need to keep your image of being young and innocent for as long as possible," Bobby reminded him, ignoring Dean's scoff when he said 'innocent'. Soon after Snow visited him, Sam had run like a tattle tale to tell Bobby what had happened. Now Bobby was on his back, trying to help him keep that prospect off as long as possible. Dean rolled his eyes, but took sips from his water, it was going to be a long evening.

As the evening went on, Dean managed to sneak away, having had enough of his prep team and stylist, and pretty much everyone else in the small room. As he walked outside, the brisk air hit him, causing him to pull the jacket tighter around himself as he walked through the snowy streets. It looked different here, compared to 4, as he walked through the streets. He quickly became jealous of this district as he noticed the lack of whipping polls and stocks, even the peacekeepers seemed much more lenient here. But as he walked through the streets, he noticed how the majority of the houses were falling down, he guessed most of the people here were living in poverty, he noticed how skinny their children were when he read his speech earlier in the day. The district was small, so he quickly crossed it coming to the district's boundary fence. He expected to hear the fence buzz with electricity, like he did at home, but it was silent. Curious, he picked up a stick and threw it at the fence, but it made no sound. Unelectrified.

He questioned how easy it would be for him to climb over and run into the woods that were beyond this fence, away from Capitol. But he knew he couldn't, not without Sam, his father and Bobby. If he ran, they would soon be dead. Snow would make sure of that. Dean sighed as he returned back to the streets, knowing that he was going to be missed from the dinner soon, if not already. Bobby was right, he needed to get his act together and start playing the game. If not for himself, but for his family.

Twenty minutes later, Dean had snuck back into the dinner, only being noticed by Haymitch, who gave him a small chuckle, raising his glass slightly towards him. Dean suppressed a smile, perhaps Haymitch wasn't that terrible after all.

Barely after ten, the dinner was over, Dean, Bobby and the rest of his team returned back to the train. As soon as the last person had boarded the train, it pulled gently away from district 12.

* * *

The next few districts were as terrible as 12, making Dean become deeper into despair, his nightmares becoming strong than ever, and not even a drop of alcohol to help ease him through. Dean could feel his cheeks hurting from putting on a fake grin the whole time. What made it worse was that he couldn't look some of the families in the eye as he gave his speech. He had personally killed their children. It was sick that they were forced to sand on platforms and hear him speak about how great the Capitol and the games are, with a quick note of remorse to the families.

Also, it didn't that for most of the victors he had met he wouldn't trust them as far as her could throw them. In fact, there was only one victor that he got on with, Benny Lafitte from District 11. Albeit much older than Dan, the man seemed level headed, and a similar sense of humour to Dean.

Dean stared at the ugly tall factories in District 8, smoke rising from each one, barely letting the sun shine in the sky.

"It is not a beautiful sight to see," A deep voice from behind stated, causing Dean to jump, and take a protective stance out of habit. "I'm sorry, I did not mean to scare you," The man said. He was average height, black hair and blue eyed, and was wearing a white shirt, with a blue tie, and a beige coat.

Dean didn't relax his stance. "Who are you?"

"My name is Castiel. I am one of the victors of District 8," he explained calmly, and Dean relaxed his stance.

"De-" Dean started to say before being interrupted by Castiel.

"Dean. Yes I am aware of who you are. In fact I doubt that anyone will not know who you are anymore." Castiel told him bluntly.

Dean chuckled uncomfortably, uneasy about being reminded how in the spotlight he will forever be.

"Wait, you said your name was Castiel. Where have I heard that name before?" Dean thought out loud. His face went white as he remembered. "I tried to save him, honest," Dean started to defend himself as he remembered Balthazar bleeding out beside him. "I didn't kill him."

Castiel nodded his head. "I know that, Dean. There is no hard feelings between us. I have been a mentor for long enough to realise how unlikely it is for them to come back alive. Admittedly, Balthazar was an old friend of mine, and I grieve his loss, but it was crucial that you won the games."

Dean began to nod his head, but narrowed his eyes at Castiel when he remembered what Balthazar had told him. "Listen, I'm not getting involved in this whole rebellion business," Dean said in a hushed voice, not wanting to get Castiel killed.

Castiel grabbed Dean's arm and dragged him into the shadows of the building, want to conceal themselves from any Peacekeepers or snitches. "You do not understand, Dean. It is believed that you are the key to rebellion. You didn't just have an effect on the Capitol citizens, the people in the districts were entranced by you as well. The influence you had on some of the people in districts during the games, it would be enough to get them to fight. You have the leadership to have people follow you, the charisma. The rebellion needs you. Our fate rests in your hands."

"No," Dean said, shaking his head and stepping back from Castiel. "Find someone else. Anyway no one will follow me. I played the games, I didn't show an inch of rebellion the whole time. I mean good luck, and I hope it all works out for you, I really do, but I'm not getting involved. I mean don't you remember about the dark days?"

"Not personally, but yes I do remember what has been said about them. The Capitol was overcome due to a split in the rebels. That is why we need a leader like you-" Castiel argued, tightly holding onto Dean's arm.

"No. I can't. I have a family to protect," Dean retorted, ripping his arm away.

"How will you protect your family, when they are likely to be dead from their treatment by the Capitol," Castiel growled. "The Victor's are not treated the same as the other citizens. We become more of a slave than before we entered the games. We do not live peacefully, Dean," Castiel told him. Dean glanced around, not wanting to look at Castiel, already knowing that fact. "Why will you not look at me?"

"I already know that."

"President Snow has already come to threaten your family?" Castiel asked.

Dean nodded his head. "But, I have struck a deal to keep them safe," Dean reassured. "So, there is no way I can help you."

"Dean, you are the only one who can do this," Castiel told him, more softly, having understood what that meant.

"Then you guys are screwed. It's too big. I'm not strong enough. Any part of me that was able to do this got left in the arena. I can't do it."

Castiel sighed, but relented, knowing that he wasn't going to convince Dean yet. "This will not end here," Castiel told him. "You will soon join the cause." Dean merely shook his head, walking away from Castiel, returning back to the Justice Building to find Bobby.

* * *

The rest of the trip blurred together for Dean, each district became the same, a smile as he unboarded the train, giving a speech, accepting a plaque and flowers, a small party, and then returning back onto the train and heading for the next district.

As he arrived in Panem, he could not forget what Castiel had said, he had seemed so certain that he would join the rebellion. If he had no one to care for, then perhaps he would. But Snow was watching him like a hawk. One toe out of line, and Sammy and his father would suffer for it.

Despite his distaste for the Capitol, he was amazed by the party held for him. It was in the president's mansion, and there were tables upon tables full of food. It made the luxury food on the train seem pathetic. Dean walked over to the food, grabbing burgers, pie, and anything else he put his hands on, quickly stuffing it down his throat, enjoying each new item of food as much as the last.

But he was quickly dragged away from the table of food every time he got near it, a new person wanting to congratulate and introduce themselves. If Dean could be left alone, he would have found it an ok night, but as the new victor, everyone wanted to spend time with him.

He would have normally tried to hide after the first few minutes of being dragged from one person to the next, but Bobby had reminded him of the profile he had to keep. So Dean gritted his teeth and bared through every man wanting him to marry their daughters, every old lady pinching his cheek and telling him howhansom he is, people stroking his arm, making lame jokes that he had to laugh at, having to dance with every woman and many men in that room. By midnight he was exhausted, his eyes closed as his head hit the pillow on his bed.

* * *

The train pulled into District 4, and Dean gave his first genuine smile of the tour as he stepped off the train, his family in sight. _This is why I have to do this_ , Dean reminded himself. He would do anything for his family. If that meant that he had to play the happy victor everyone wanted him to play, then so be it. May the odds be ever in his favour.


End file.
